140 character fiction…

After a few drinks his hands wouldn’t shake as much. But it was still too much. The midday sun was a glare on the top of the bar.


This is a work of erotic fiction, intended for the enjoyment of adults.  Minors are advised not to follow the link.


That jagged, graceful bolt of shell on your pillow is called a lightning whelk. You may have felt its horns under your toes last night, when you dug them into the sand. I brought it back with us; it knows our secret. Put it to your ear now, and hear the waves, and remember. Continue reading