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Envy

Francis Strauss was among the nobility of the entertainment industry. He resided in a palace built precariously on a cliff overlooking a stretch of coastline. The enormous structure dug into the edge of the bluff seemed in itself a statement of defiance, an arrogant challenge to the mighty forces of nature, embodied in the Pacific to just try and take down his opulent fortress.
Francis was a composer and a very well renowned one. His scores were featured in dozens of movies and tv shows. His unseen hand emotionally supercharged dramatic moments. His highly discerning ears expertly layered the melancholy piano and swelling strings into scenes that aroused the deepest felt human emotions.
Through the pitch and arrangements of notes, Francis could connect with humanity. Still, in all other aspects, his social skills were terminally deficient, and because of this, despite his immense wealth and notoriety, Francis was never loved by anyone.
A vague inkling his life was lacking something, a…
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William's Ride

"William's Ride!" as it was christened by an enthusiastic press riding on a wave of jingoist fervor, was billed as a glorious cross country ride by the King and his dragoons to the front.  The stunt was calculated to boost morale at the front. By the cocksure warrior king's estimation, once he took to the field, the enemy's resistance would not last one day longer.
It was a gamble, to say the least, and the young King met with disappointment from the very start. When he rode from the barracks, he was lead to a secluded platform where a private luxury car awaited him.
"I am as sharp as my saber's edge and ready for battle." the eager King protested to his handlers.
"Please, your majesty, the calvary was just for the front pages." A Royal Minister explained. "The bulk of our field forces are moved by trains now."
The King shot the minister a cock-eyed glance."
"Yes, your highness," The Royal Chief of Staff intervened…
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If you like my work, consider checking out one of my short story collections available on Kindle. Here is a link to my author's page where you'll find everything I've put together thus far. Everything is under 2$ and just long enough to pass one of these soul grindingly slow quarantine afternoons.



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Post-Resurrection Crisis

It used to be true that you only live once. Robert Clive proved this maxim entirely false, though when he born for the second time late one morning on the top floor of a large metropolitan hospital. Robert’s second birth was not as messy as his first. There was no placenta, no after birth, no cord to cut. This time Robert opened his eyes fully conscious and aware. In a fully developed body that he was grateful to receive but unable to hide his disappointment with its build.
“He’s a bit pudgy, don’t you think? Also, it appears I am now Asian.” Robert pointed out to the team of doctors engineers and biologists that had just orchestrated the Lazars style miracle.
Doctor Gupta, the lead physician, politely apologized and explained it was the only suitable donor for the consciousness transference procedure they could find. However, there were suitable female hosts Clive could house his mind in if he’d prefer.
Robert considered the option. “Would I have to menstruate?” he asked.
“I’m afraid…
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Role Model

The countryside was in flames, Armies descended like locusts on farms and villages, devouring everything they could before marching off with another helpless population center in their sites. For one Inn struggling Inn, though, the arrival of the marauders was a miracle.
Crown Prince  William Ausburg Courber Fredrick Zollern the Fifth, or merely the Crown Prince William to those who couldn't commit the chain of titles and names to memory, was on campaign. In either war or peace, the Crown Prince was a magnet for the creme de la creme of any society. Luckily for the owner of the Inn the Williams as a man of especially notable blood, he was above pillaging.
The decaying wooden walls of the establishment brimmed with nobility. The Crown Princes entourage mingled with local men of property who hoped to endear themselves to their conquerers early.
The rod spined Crow Prince William sat at the head of a long wooden table. To his right was his aid de camp and second cousin General Schwar…
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Do Not Adjust Your Set!

According to Google Analytics, the majority of readers that visit this site are in China, Hong Kong, Italy, and the US. All places where millions of people have been put on lockdown. So, if you're looking for a way to pass the time once the alcohol has run out, might I suggest my newest collection of short stories now available on Amazon!
This anthology is a bit longer than the others but still a breezy read. I think the title speaks enough to the theme. Buy it here today!


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Musical Chairs

Triton was built on the floor of an alien sea. It was a network of austere rectangular facilities connected by titanium tunnels that channeled the water like a hulking industrial Venice. Triton wasn't a city in the organic sense, although people did live within the sunless confines.
Its growth was not an organic process. It was a prefabricated facility built for the practice purposes of housing a specific population of humans while they toiled to extract the resources buried in the ocean floor.
For a time, Triton was a success. Rising production lead to growth, but the precarious balance between population and resources was always maintained. A creature of unimaginable sized suddenly and without warning seized the entirety of Triton in its grasp. The beast engulfed Triton and slowly began to crush the life out of it the way a boa constrictor does to its prey. The aquatic monster was so enormous no one could see it in its entirety, there was no way of knowing what it was, but it he…
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