Our guide's name was Mr. Douglas. He said 3 elephants are okay but 4 can be dangerous.
My handy-dandy phone app tells me it has been two years since I started practicing TM (transcendental meditation) - twenty minutes twice a day. That is the guideline but I achieve it half the time. But still - two years is two years - and two years more than ever before. So - Where am [...]
The Open Door - is published in The Origins Journal. It is an anchor story in my book Moments in Transition: Stories of Maya and Jeena. I decided to place it towards the end of the novella. My logic, albeit obscure was that I want my reader to become curious about the tension in the [...]
Published in The East Bay Review: You can now read my short story Uptown Girl for free. “Sophistication” is another word for that inventive mix of tolerance, resilience and resourcefulness city people develop. —Edward Hoagland In a few long strides, the elegant woman clicked her black heels across an expanse of opulent granite to park [...]
My latest fun author finally getting some love from popular media.
In just a few long strides, the elegant woman clicked black heels across the expanse of the opulent lobby and smoothly parked herself and her wheeled luggage by the registration desk. She rested her handbag on the counter, ready to take out her wallet if needed. “You have a reservation for me? Jeena Mann. That’s [...]
Skyler Knight Walker had been aware for some time now that he was born with a special power. He had discovered it one night, a few years ago, when forgetfully, he ventured out of his hideout without the bubble suit. At that time, he didn't think much of it. After all, there was not too much more in [...]
More specifically, why do I write on a blog site? After about 2 years of maintaining Ramn Wright I have stumbled upon the answer through sheer dumb luck. Or you might say it was written in stars. Soon after I wrote my first post , I knew why I should not blog. It takes time away from my "book-writing"; I spend gratuitous time tallying [...]
Pistachio ice cream, Tangerine whip. I read the names of the colors as I hold my mother’s hand by her index finger, tightly, while she chatters on with the man behind the desk of the paint store. What kinds of names are these I think: not green, not orange but pistachio ice cream, tangerine whip! [...]
Dear Granma, I am writing this note from my Bubble in the Incarceration Habitat. I have committed the most heinous of crimes: Newborn Endangerment. To that they have added Torture and Treachery against the State and a trial date will be set. But I cannot wait for the trial. They don't know about the Hideout. Yet. It will take [...]