You just don’t get it. Everything was going perfectly, you were smelling like a rose, and now it’s all turned to shit. One second you’ve got fifty k being placed into your hands like you’ve just ordered something from McDonald’s, and now your best buddy’s got a bullet hole the size of your fist in his face, the cops are after you for the kill, and you’ve got to take…
NOVEMBER “Buy me a coffee?” I can smell the man so strongly, I don’t even want to look at him. Let alone that any eye contact will most likely just encourage his inquisition. Instead I glance around at the others waiting to catch the transit. No help there. The schoolboy has found something intriguing about his shoelaces, and the woman is looking down the street, presumably looking for the bus.
Ghost Written for Dr. Coke The sand of the final dune slides through my fingers as I rapidly scramble up its side, clawing at the grains which give way so easily to pressure. I stop for an instant, as the sand engulfs my hand, wrapping it in a cold encasement. The feeling freezes me as I kneel, the coolness of it on my skin. Peter’s voice brings me back.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Back in the late 90’s, I made the switch from working in traditional art media to almost solely digital. I was involved with an online group for a while, which would have weekly design challenges to motivate each other, and to push our artistic development. I started out with mostly photo manipulation, but eventually found that I had more of an affinity for vector graphics, or for transforming photos into vector…