Damned Words 15

Rusted Relics Jon Olson Are they gone? The Creepers I mean? Fuck that was close. Too close. Shit, they almost got me. Cold-blooded bastards. They’re most active in the sun, yet you ventured out in daylight. We can’t take any more chances; there are so few of us left now. At one time, we were…

Writing Is Weird

Writing is weird. You can spend months fumbling through a first draft like a child with wet clay and no supervision. Sentences slip through your hands. The chapters won’t stay together. You get an awful lot of it under your nails, and around your mouth. (The carpet’s ruined.)

New Breed

I was born twice. Once in my own world, of which I recall very little, and once again by a human vessel. My consciousness was merged with human seed and implanted in a hot womb of thriving tissue. 
Perhaps those months spent within my human host are the most enjoyable in my memory. No one…

Damned Words 14

Empty Stone Jon Olson He is weak, the large gash in his stomach slowly killing him, yet he crawls onward. Gripping dirt, the dying man pulls himself closer. His eyes rest upon the stone carvings; upon the angel. There he hopes to feel his lord’s embrace; to feel salvation. Fingertips reach out, touching it, feeling…

What Is Pen Of The Damned?

“We read,” he says quietly, remembering an old quote from a book buried now beneath a grave marked Lewis, “to know we are not alone.” Then he opens his mouth, draws breath, begins reading from the pages in his hands, and twelve people listen patiently, and for a chapter or two in a cold, dark…

This Year In Writing

“If something burns your soul with passion and desire, it’s your duty to be reduced to ashes by it. Any other form of existence will be yet another dull book in the library of life.” Charles Bukowski A year can be defined by many things: days, weeks, months, lifestyle changes, and zodiac animals. To the…

Salamander

“Fulfill your divine potential. Connect with your higher self and spirit guides. Manifest the life you want,” read the brochure. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but sitting there, in a circle of misfits, Jess regretted going along and wondered how she could politely excuse herself. A woman with long white hair…

Damned Words 13

Silently, Deliberately Jon Olson Every day, like a moth to a flame, I revisit this spot, eager to see it again. Leaning back against the tree, I gaze out onto the horizon. My eyes scan left to right, right to left. It was here, on this small protrusion of land, I saw it hovering silently,…

War Criminal

The calm evening teemed with latent purpose. Warm lights glowed in the windows of surrounding suburban homes as families finished their supper and settled down in front of their televisions for the night’s sitcoms and news casts. Nothing moved outside, but the gentle scraping-tumble of fallen leaves along the curb. Nothing moved, but much was…