I was going to write about something else today, but seeing as I've been slacking when it comes to watching Fringe, I was lacking of a review (I should get that up tomorrow). Since the past two days have been posts of fiction that I've written, and today is friday, I thought it'd be nice to throw out a little "Friday Fiction."

Friday Fiction was something that my old Internet colleague Klint ...

It would be an engaging predicament had this all been popcorn movie fare. The audience would be leaning forward right about now with suspenseful anticipation, waiting for the miraculous moment of triumph in the midst of an emotional clash. Unfortunately there's no camera lighting or any director's clapboard to ease my own tension as my mind slowly awakens wondering in which poor soul's tome I am buried. I can taste the wretched ...

I stood there, arms, legs, and chest bleeding incessantly from the callous grip and vengeful tearing of wild thorn bushes and razor blade leaves, wishing things had turned out differently, wishing that the wounds of the hsin healed as quickly as the wounds of the flesh; even if scars are left in their wake.

I wadded in three feet deep swamp; mud, muck, and sludge forming a prison of fluidity, jailing me for sins of ...