On Second Thought, I Want a Prenup

Witnesses gathered as an audience around the pews, looking at the bride and groom–donned in the radiance of their gloom. Doom sets in the brisk October moonlight, traveling among the cumbersome graveyard of future divorce lawyers. (© 2021 AC) (Wattpad, Amazon Kindle.)

Love at a Cemetery

(© 2021 AC) (Erica Orloff edited this short story. All of my short stories on Kindle are professionally edited.) (Wattpad, Amazon Kindle.)

Who Killed Hannah? – Andrew Cyr

I so have to figure out who killed, no, who murdered Hannah and why, Francis thought, staring eye-level into a half-empty wineglass as though it were her best friend, a day after Thanksgiving. Why didn’t she have the fucking Smith & Wesson I bought her last Christmas? Francis drew a syringe on an envelope. AnContinue reading “Who Killed Hannah? – Andrew Cyr”

Buried Alive

Shannon hated her mother. I didn’t care for the woman either, but I had no reason to see her dead, at least not at first. But Shannon, Shannon wanted the bitch dead as fuck. I couldn’t reconcile the sweet, long blonde-haired churchgoing girl with the vicious, spoiled brat. But here she was, and here IContinue reading “Buried Alive”

@ATT: Making the connection between sedition, oppression, and white nationalism

Cougar At The Pool

Crisp golden-brown leaves from maple trees scattered the distance. Even so, she was suntanning by the pool, wrapped in a blanket, making me want her, making my mouth water with saltwater with her pale skin well enough for a suitor. She’s a cougar; even still, I hate that I’d date her. It’s not what youContinue reading “Cougar At The Pool”

End of September

On the last day of September, I sip warm coffee in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise. From the large bay living room window, I can see more than I want to see. The maple tree has lost its leaves—patches of crisp golden-brown cover the ground. I remember memories I’d much rather castContinue reading “End of September”

Right Date, Wrong Night

A date I’d been waiting for shows up the night before I worked itout with Rachel. Angie slipped through a crack in the backdoor. We made love on the bedroom floor. A platonic façade bursts its bubble with the name of a stupid love song, and the shedding of her clothes pokes holes in herContinue reading “Right Date, Wrong Night”


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mastery of my own cipher


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Dread Poets Sobriety

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Blog Fiction

The Light is On

Thoughts, Stories, Poems



Pick Me Up Poetry

Music | Literature | People.


Welcome to my world! We go through a lot in our lives but to accept them with an open heart and emotional strength is what keeps us alive. My posts are about all those little fears, happy moments, and anticipation we experience throughout our lives. I hope you find solace in them!


Swimming in the Ridiculous Like a Tuna With a Mistress

The Mad Puppeteer

Warden of Words // Shaper of Stories


You are not the " U" in ubiquitous, but the "U" in Unique