a journal of poetry, flash fiction, and art
A collective of creatives bound by a single motto: There's nothing in the rulebook that says a giraffe can't play football!
The Sound of Horror
Literature that Burns like Wildfire.
the EHS blog
Musings by speculative fiction author Karen Miller
"There was a weight in the early autumn air. Though they were both persistent in their presence, it was neither the oppressive heat nor the dense humidity that animated the atmosphere this day. The air was fattened, rather, with promises of things to come. Bad things."
The Writing of Arthur Klepchukov
Feed The Fear
Towards a catalogue of London’s inter-dimensional gateways
Editor, Author, Priestess of Words
limericks lewdness religion god poetry sex drugs
Mystery. Horror. Comedy. Oddities.
Floating thoughts, A place where my beautifully weird thoughts floating around in my mind are posted.
places, spaces and people in my amazingly bright life...
Confessions of a Catnip-eating Scribe
Novelist and Playwright in the Bay Area, CA
Stunning shot for an amazing activity! Don’t think I can even imagine doing a fire dance like that. I really like the length (height?) of the shot, as you said to show the rain, but also the full breadth of the fire he’s producing. Wow!
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Wow! that’s stunning. 🙂
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