In the moments before sleep stole him away, he would always resolve to do better tomorrow. Every night, or often early morning, he told himself that he would go to sleep earlier, wake up with the sun, and carpe some diem. Sometimes he even fantasized about going for a run or quitting smoking the next … Continue reading Another Day
Category: Writing
A Sad Display
By: Ben Bielert They came roaring down the road.Plumes of black smoke in tow,Silverados like silverbacksrumbling exhaust, the new chest pounding. Shoving and cursingHowling and yowlingSmallest dogs yap mostMagician’s trick of misdirection Swilling down beerNone of that sissy stuffManhood might fall clean offFrom drinking something sweet Self-images are empty glassesThe careless sweep of a handAnd … Continue reading A Sad Display
The Pillow of Ambition
By: Ben Bielert Casing stuffed to burstingwith glass shards and kerosenecotton covered hand grenadefilled with broken dreams. Each jagged, broken piecepicked up with shaking handssweat pooling on the browfrom the world's demands. The lines have been drawnin this war of attritionnever slumber partywith the pillow of ambition. © Benjamin Bielert, all rights reserved
The Day You Left
By: Ben Bielert I wasn’t that old on the day you left. Just a 7-year-old girl with scabby knees and tears streaming down my cheeks. I watched your car crawl away on the bumpy gravel driveway, the crunching sound under those bald tires seemed to never end. I might have been able to catch you, … Continue reading The Day You Left
Eostre
By: Ben Bielert Before the men from Rome,came with their decree,back before Christ was known,or consigned to history,there was a goddess Eostrewhose name was toasted to.A spring festival was celebrated,when the flower buds grew anew. The marks of this rebirthing timewere made by hares and eggs,to herald the season of new lifeand the changes that … Continue reading Eostre
The Xenoflora Spell
When it arrived, Aaron didn’t see anything, it all happened too quickly. Shooting out of the sky, faster than a bullet, it narrowly missed him and his dog, Chase. The air heated up instantly. The cool air of that early autumn evening became so hot that he had to step back as though he had … Continue reading The Xenoflora Spell
Choosing Life: a William Morgan Story
By: Ben Bielert “You’re hard to track down,” Angela said, surprising me as she emerged from the shadows. I wasn’t easy to sneak up on either, so my surprise was intermingled with admiration. “I don’t like to sit still,” I told her. “What are you doing here, Angie?” “Not happy to see your offspring?” She … Continue reading Choosing Life: a William Morgan Story
The Breeding Pair
By: Ben Bielert Consciousness came back slowly and painfully. Rama’s flesh felt light and dry as a fallen leaf. He clutched the edge of his cryogenic pod and tried to steady himself; the exertion of lifting his dried-out husk from prone to sitting proved to be excruciating. Damn the ship’s artificial gravity field. His wasted … Continue reading The Breeding Pair
Afraid to Take the Reins
The caravan continued,barreling towards the cliff.Everyone aboard knewthe jagged earth below would kill. The driver's eyes gleamedin the light of the full moon."Why would I drive us over the edge?"But his tone said that he would. They all knew exactly wherethey were heading to.But none took the reins,for they weren't sure of what to do. … Continue reading Afraid to Take the Reins
Talking to Myself
By: Ben Bielert It’s a drizzly, miserable, cold fall day, which has completely screwed my usual routine. Lately, I’ve been writing in the park, risking the possibility that a member of my city’s growing homeless population will try to steal my shitty 5-year-old laptop and pawn it for the $40 that it’s likely worth so … Continue reading Talking to Myself
Bloody Well Write 