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Notes from the Underwear
Many of these stories betray how little I understood how people operated in society. Read more
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Writing Exercise: Implication (2)
The shrubs below the front bay window were skillfully round, sculpted like green and leafy balloons. Read more
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By the Side of the Road
“Her foot? It was cute from a distance, like when we came around the corner, but something that huge? Yeah, that’s kinda scary. You could see the sun shining on her skin and her muscles working beneath it.” Read more
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Writing Exercise: Implication
The bed is of an injection-molded plastic yellow frame, with a low half-circle at the foot and a tall half-circle at the head. Read more
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Hiding and Shameful
When I was seven years old and I had my first giantess dream, I knew two things: 1) I’d discovered a part of my identity, and 2) I must never share this with anyone. Read more
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Writing Exercise: the Stranger
I hate these clubs, I hate these clubs, I hate these clubs. “Sure, sweetie. I’ll be right here. Huh? Whatever you’re having.” That’s right, set me on the carpeted Habitrail platform, go trot off into the crowd of giants, and maybe I’ll see you in five or forty minutes. Read more
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Writing Exercise: Telling It Slant
“Oh, you don’t know how it is out here, out of the fancy city with all those self-driving cars and nonsense. Are you really happy out there? Aren’t you lonely?” Read more
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Breaking the Fast
“Everything okay, sweetie?” he hollered up to her. He asked again, getting only a distracted ‘yeah, sure’ in response, watching her turn away… Read more
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Commandeered!
She shucked her over-sized shoulder bag and dumped its contents onto the floor. In the middle of this hoard lay a young man, dazed and disoriented. Read more
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“Let’s Go Home, Sweetheart”
“Hasn’t this been just the loveliest day, sweetie?” She grinned warmly at the little man in her palm. “We’ve gone out and seen so much, made so many wonderful memories.” Read more
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Vale Starkaðr!
I’m terribly thrilled to have done my first intentional collaboration with an artist. Read more
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Petia the Witch, pt. 3
The wind blew cold and dry at Petia’s jacket as her boots picked their way across lumps of field. Read more
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