prose
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The anguish of a pacifistic troll
Dearly Beloved, We gather here to mourn the passing of this goblin, Nik Wik. As a pacifistic troll who weeps rivers of anguish at the state of the eleventh earth, I’m here to condemn violence in every form. Why can’t we stop these battles which butcher innocents like Nik Wik in the name of Mythrall, a… Continue reading
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Eden
To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring – it was peace. – Milan Kundera I’m sitting on the veranda of the old mountain cottage, looking at the verdant valley when, through the deep caves of thought, I hear… Continue reading
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Beginnings
As I look up at the spinning ceiling fan, memories drift in my mind like moths flitting about in an old attic. I think about when we met at that quaint bar with wooden tables, chairs, and liquor bottles shelved against a wall. I watched you climb the rickety staircase, and wondered what you’d think when… Continue reading
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The benefits of having a stalker
I remember the first comment. It said, “You’re a pity party, a predictable loser,” and I thought it was spam until more arrived. “Piece of shit!” “You think your writing is fantastic? Ha!” All from email addresses with my name, followed by something obscene. I had a stalker, and I didn’t understand why because I’m… Continue reading
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Kris Kringle
There was a time when I drifted through the night sky in my sleigh, jubilant and possessed with a need to give. The children went to sleep on Christmas Eve with a smile on their faces because they knew I delivered what I promised year after year. Love beckoned me, and I chased her as… Continue reading
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Closure
I met another version of him after three years: a different avatar. I wanted to meet him after reading one of his recently published poems. The tone of the piece showed a shift from his earlier work. His initial writing was effervescent, or like David’s psalms, began on a note of melancholia and then drifted… Continue reading
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Acid rain and obsidian
If you’re a poet (in the traditional sense), you’ll look at the stars with a hint of melancholy and pen an ode to an imagined lover looking at them in a different city. You’ll write about how you share a mystical connection with her that transcends the boundaries of space, but sadly, not time. You’ll… Continue reading
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On Ashen rains and fire
Sometimes the thought of living fills me with exuberance. I think of poetry, art, and music, and an insatiable hunger to create seizes me. But then, sometimes the thought of existence distresses me and fills me with the dread of a pagan on Judgement day. And though I look for a balance, an Autumn that… Continue reading
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Hey
I haven’t heard from you in months. I hope you’re well and only wish the best for you. You foxtrotted into my life, burning brightly and setting the dance floor of my fate on fire. You changed things; introduced me to Jeff VanderMeer and Anne Rice; imprinted your word on my heart, and then left,… Continue reading
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Gangrene
I I am an enigmatic man who lets his troubled past, chock-full of paternal blows dictate him while ironically allowing the languor of the present lull him into a false sense of security. I also incongruously live in make-believe future Mays replete with bountiful harvests, cider, and red amaranths in bloom like little Cardinals. I… Continue reading
About Me
Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.
Ordinary Person 