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Akashio | A refuge for writing and flash fictionA refuge for writing and flash fiction (by Kaston)
http://akashio.wordpress.com/
A refuge for writing and flash fiction (by Kaston)
http://akashio.wordpress.com/
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Akashio | A refuge for writing and flash fiction | akashio.wordpress.com Reviews
https://akashio.wordpress.com
A refuge for writing and flash fiction (by Kaston)
akashio.wordpress.com
Space | Akashio
https://akashio.wordpress.com/2011/03/08/404
A refuge for writing and flash fiction. About the Aspiring Author. Per request, here’s an old spoken word poem that I have never gotten around to performing. Enjoy🙂.*. Today, I can feel the distance between raindrops. I can hear the science class rabble now. About how. If an atom were a stadium,. A proton would be the size of a pea and an electron would be. A grain of sand flitting around in the welfare seats. Or how if Helium. Were the size of the Earth,. The nucleus would be an apple. I stare at you.
The Poems | Akashio
https://akashio.wordpress.com/the-poems
A refuge for writing and flash fiction. About the Aspiring Author. These are scripts for live performances–the “page” for the “stage.” If you are a performer looking for permission to cover one of these pieces: permission granted. More links to scripts will be listed as they become available. The first title doubles as a subtle suggestion. My Name is Kaston. The Baker’s Son. If I Were Famous. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:.
Toward High Noon | Akashio
https://akashio.wordpress.com/2012/05/01/toward-high-noon
A refuge for writing and flash fiction. About the Aspiring Author. Egg yolk spilled across the sky three minutes earlier this morning, pooling over metallic blue in patches. As I trudge forward, sand screws up to my knees during long gusts to remind me that even in the desert I am not alone in waking. This is not a spiritual quest; this is not a nightmare, for that implies brevity. This is a purposeful challenge to that slobbering, scrap-iron pig, Death. Feed You can leave a response. From your own site.
Things | Akashio
https://akashio.wordpress.com/2012/05/04/things
A refuge for writing and flash fiction. About the Aspiring Author. If there is a God, he must be wearing black. If there is a God, he’s on his knees. This entry was posted on Friday, May 4th, 2012 at 6:03 am and is filed under flash fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. Feed You can leave a response. From your own site. Laquo; Previous Post. Next Post ». Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Ex-mongo...
So Grandpa’s a Writer | Akashio
https://akashio.wordpress.com/2012/05/07/so-grandpas-a-writer
A refuge for writing and flash fiction. About the Aspiring Author. So Grandpa’s a Writer. To write is to let things pass slower than they happened, to toss negative space from memory and arrange leftover fragments. Summer sand; yellow pails; cold moats. Numbing bass; glasses kicked from the table; soft graze of cherry chapstick. High balcony; her grip uncurls; the smell of my own fingernails. This entry was posted on Monday, May 7th, 2012 at 6:44 am and is filed under flash fiction. From your own site.
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Months after the March for Equality (via eating words) | Before the Bottle
https://beforethebottle.wordpress.com/2010/07/19/months-after-the-march-for-equality-via-eating-words
Creatively Standing in Line. Months after the March for Equality (via eating words). Back in October, I went to the March for Equality in Washington, DC. One of my favorite things about the march was seeing all the different signs people made. Some were fierce. Some were funny. Some were just plain silly. Most spoke the truth, however they chose to angle it. I started writing this post months ago Read More. Your Goddamn Rights (part 2). Old Man in a White Suit. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Akashio by Kast...
Isobel and The White Night (Exerpt) | Ramblings of the Mundane: Observations from the Treehouse
https://artisticjunkie.wordpress.com/2008/10/14/isobel-and-the-white-night-exerpt
Ramblings of the Mundane: Observations from the Treehouse. From the eyes of T.M Fulks. Isobel and The White Night (Exerpt). October 14, 2008 in Uncategorized. Minus the douche-bag in the Beemer next to memay he lose his job, and his car. Blueberry, strawberry, chocolate chip, pumpkin, banana, the list goes on and on. If they created steak pancakes, I would be the first to try them. So Juniper knows that when I start ordering waffles, shit is going to hit the fan. Comments feed for this article. I like yo...
Old Man in a White Suit | Before the Bottle
https://beforethebottle.wordpress.com/2010/08/05/old-man-in-a-white-suit
Creatively Standing in Line. Old Man in a White Suit. Ironically in his late forties. Gray hair; ivory, 50s-style suit with matching hat; slight stubble; messy eyebrows. SETTING: Stage is bare, completely black. After house lights go down there is still no light onstage. Strikes long match for cigarette already in his mouth. Can’t quite get the match to light]. I didn’t know ’til today pigeons have these bright orange eyes–like those fuckin’ tictacs, y’know? Aug 06, 2010. Aug 12, 2010. Ex-mongol archer a...
Your Goddamn Rights (part 2) | Before the Bottle
https://beforethebottle.wordpress.com/2010/07/16/your-goddamn-rights-part-2
Creatively Standing in Line. Your Goddamn Rights (part 2). I have no future prospects. I know, I know, the U.S. Constitution is boring. I know. Wait, what the fuck are you talking about you year 1775 commie? Pull yourself together and experience the awesomeness. Let’s go over what’s sweet about amendments four through six. 4th amendment: Search and Seizure. The 4th amendment guarantees my. Experimental, confused adults’. Everyone’s secrets stay SECRET, like they should be, Mom…. The amendment is responsi...
Kaston | Before the Bottle
https://beforethebottle.wordpress.com/author/akashio
Creatively Standing in Line. Once, I lived in a world of negatives. Where I knew how to walk through darkness. I thought that was all there was to beauty–. That transformation; the gentle birth of white. When I first noticed the cool, summer air kiss my skin. And I looked up and saw the entire palate of blues nested in your eyes,. Your strawberry cheeks in my hands and the softness. Of your yellow words so light. Carelessly, I was thrown into the world of colors. As it represents all that is you. I know,...
White | Before the Bottle
https://beforethebottle.wordpress.com/2012/04/02/white
Creatively Standing in Line. Once, I lived in a world of negatives. Where I knew how to walk through darkness. I thought that was all there was to beauty–. That transformation; the gentle birth of white. When I first noticed the cool, summer air kiss my skin. And I looked up and saw the entire palate of blues nested in your eyes,. Your strawberry cheeks in my hands and the softness. Of your yellow words so light. Carelessly, I was thrown into the world of colors. As it represents all that is you. How hap...
Soft Whispers: June 2010
http://softwhisp.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html
Feature week is underway with James Conway! Wednesday, June 30, 2010. A broken traffic light. Between now and death. The faded treeline shades. The high mountains sink -. Popping glass dances around. Titled signs point all ways. All ways to the heart. Always to the heart. Tuesday, June 29, 2010. On this white desert. Like little drops of hope. Taking shape in clouds of smoke. Laying on this black valley. The mountainside of our soul. Meet Laura Mercurio Ebohon! I cannot really tell you the what or the ho...
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Akashio | A refuge for writing and flash fiction
A refuge for writing and flash fiction. About the Aspiring Author. So Grandpa’s a Writer. May 7, 2012. To write is to let things pass slower than they happened, to toss negative space from memory and arrange leftover fragments. Summer sand; yellow pails; cold moats. Numbing bass; glasses kicked from the table; soft graze of cherry chapstick. High balcony; her grip uncurls; the smell of my own fingernails. May 4, 2012. If there is a God, he must be wearing black. If there is a God, he’s on his knees.
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