|Welcome to everybody!|
Sonnet To PuabiSonnetSonnet To Puabi by Michel-le-fou
If I must compare thee
Then it be to a summer day
Thy sigh is a mid-day breeze
That carries my woes far away
Thy glance is the sun and the moon
Peaking at me from behind a cloud
And I am the only one who enjoys
There be nobody else around
Oh let me live in thy summer love
Throughout each passing year
For I am forever grateful to those above
Who have brought thee near
A winter day is a day without you
So let us be together till my life is through
Dream QuestDream QuestDream Quest by Michel-le-fou
A man’s dream of Leng
Who can ever say where we go or what we do in our dreams? We only witness them. And some may believe what we tell them, but others remain skeptical till the end.
Thus I lay in deep slumber from eleven pm until two am. The thoughts of daily life wafted through my conscious mind like dull white clouds across the azure sky until my mind lay empty. I had learned of this from a Tibetan monk living in the edge of my city. The rest was experience. The emptiness took about one hour. Then I finally drifted asleep.
Initial dreams were mundane in nature. They disclosed my relationships and encounters with various types, some of whom I doubted their humanity. Others were distinctly human and I had enjoyed a refreshing experience.
After dreaming once or twice if these encounters, I finally drifted into deep slumber and then the dream worlds changed sharply. Perchance I was subconsciously affected by stories by fellow dreamer Randolph Carter. Soon enough
Like QuicksandLike QuicksandLike Quicksand by Michel-le-fou
I am lost in the woods of doubt
I am, as always, alone
And my limbs are sinking
In the depression
Loneliness gags me
I drop weary upon my bed
Then I find my rescuer
Lying there softly
And I am in her clearing
|Welcome to everybody!|
My ears felt to be two feet from my shoulders.
The ground shifted beneath my feet
as I walked down the highway.
Pine trees drove their cars down the street
and honked at me.
My head fell off and I scrambled around to pick it up.
Meanwhile, cars swerved around me,
barely missing me.
As I put my head back on,
I looked at the green sign in the distance.
It had a left arrow and “DOWNTOWN” in bold letters.
Stumbling across the highway,
there was my fumbling little body,
trying to find out where I was.
I peeked over the guard rail and saw
a mile long cliff leading downtown.
My little body tripped back across the highway
and jumped the back of a truck headed in that direction.
The car drove down a steep hill,
I saw beyond the pine tree,
whose head was sticking through the sun roof.
The sun cast elaborate shadows across my face,
and the highway burned into my eyes.
A Sunny Afternoon at Dullenwich CastleShropshire, 1930
Margaret sat on a bench in the grounds of Dullenwich Castle. It was rather bright for a vampire, but everyone who knew her was used to her squinting.
Next to Margaret was sat the castle's owner, a young man of twenty-five years. His name was Lord Percival Throcking-Barfoot, but was known to all his friends as "Bungle."
"So this chap was convinced he was Sophocles. The poor fellow got stowed away in a lunatic asylum," said Bungle.
"Sophocles?" queried Margaret.
"A Greek playwright. Not that I know Greek playwrights from Shakespeare or the chap who writes those jolly music hall shows," Bungle replied.
Margaret tried to recall whether Penelope her mother-in-darkness had ever mentioned meeting Sophocles.
"Frightful business. Oswald told me all about it at the golf club. After a spot of golf, naturally. Then we had bloater paste sandwiches."
"Bloater paste sandwiches?" queried Margaret once again.
"Yes, bloater paste. I can't say I'm terribly fond of bloater paste my
“Beginning around the first snowfall in early November, people began to find snowmen in their yards, with no idea of who exactly had made them. At the same time, everyone began to find keys in their mailboxes, in sealed, unmarked envelopes. Some of these keys came smeared with blood, which were later proved to be that from a lamb while others came attached with travel tags in various foreign languages.”
Hailey Ueland considered what she just wrote, and then stared out of her bedroom window. In the early morning stillness, a smooth sweep of newly fallen snow covered the ground, disturbed only by the hummocks of hidden bushes and the skeletal shapes of trees.
Suddenly, from behind her, there came a muffled thump— rather like the sound of a small bag of potatoes falling. She glanced behind her. A mammoth Maine Coon cat plodded on thick paws from its perch on the rocking chair at the end of the room. It sniffed disdainfully at a
I have been writing since secondary school where I began to receive recognition for my fiction as class assignments. In university I was a section editor for the school newspaper and continued writing stories and poetry as well as news articles and editorials. I received several awards. I received my Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from a good university and went abroad, to teach ESL to support my interests, [Writers never earn enough by writing!] I earned good pay and recognition for my skill in teaching too. Recently, I edited and wrote several dissertations. The students I wrote for passed viva voce and got degrees. |
My principle genres of fiction are horror and science fiction. Conditions do not warrant me to write long stories like before, but I can manage 10 pages.
Current Residence: Thailand
deviantWEAR sizing preference: xl
Favourite genre of music: rock and jazz
Favourite style of art: surrealism
Operating System: Windows 7
MP3 player of choice: For the past 6 months I switched to iTunes
iFovourite cartoon character: Bugs Bunny, doc!
Personal Quote: We do with our dreams and our imagination what is impossible to do in real life