December 22nd, 2015 » trailside in the ever-breaking now

Pellets are micro bites primed to grow. They’re a few sentences paired with a brief description of the setting or context. They’re light and easy to write, numbered sequentially, and have little metadata. They’re licensed PS0 and are freely available for expansion. What you produce defaults to RL1 like any other piece in the land. If you want to pick one up and run with it, just let The Rooster know and he’ll mark it as such in the feed. Add a new one – there are currently 70. Or open The Map and travel.

The feed starts here.
November 1st, 2017 » no place and nowhere

There is no thing. Is no thing there? No thing there is. Thing. There? Is. No.

August 18th, 2017 » outside of Providence

Searching for Amy Sanderson. First line is, “I ran into her after college.”

August 11th, 2017 » sophomore year of college in New England

Professor tries running his class according to Robert’s Rules of Order — fails massively.

January 3rd, 2017 » riverboat cruise

A large port city of Austro-Hungarian origins. Broadside of an alley of pines afore a sliver of skyline, a parallax of ticker tapes. Who knew arboreal paces exceeded those of urbanity?

October 20th, 2016 » in reverie

Gyu fitly fud. I eat “Pizza. Pizzas good) Geting pizza so I!m getting it. Here is mee Janice went to bed”

July 13th, 2016 » median income American suburbia

After 40, a good day is any day a major household appliance doesn’t quit on you.

February 14th, 2016 » capital city in an election year

I think he was a better dissenter. When the court swerved right he lost his touch. Some people just want to watch the world burn.

January 27th, 2016 » circa 1987 on a rotary telephone left over from the early 70s

“Lots of people know how to sort out the ditch digging we all have to do from the lovemaking we all do it for.”

January 27th, 2016 » the microcosm

Hovering souls make sounds. They watch the perpetual stream before them, and see life itself in emotion infinite. Up from below rises.

January 13th, 2016 » small town U.S.A. circa 1954 a la The Twilight Zone

A writer is confounded but undeterred by the mysterious reactions he receives from all those to whom he speaks. He does not realize he speaks to them in the voice of a narrator.

January 11th, 2016 » roadside convenience doubling as a post office

Longtime lottery player is distraught at how close he was to winning the jackpot — each of his numbers was one less than a winning number. He does not realize any number is as statistically likely to come up as any other, and that there’s no such thing as “almost” in the lotto business.

January 7th, 2016 » 80s-type TV program picked

A struggling writer regrettably has to run rideshares, but the people he meets and the stories he hears end up inspiring him to write more and better, and at the end of each episode he’s journaling like Doogie Howser in the “you” and “I” format.

December 29th, 2015 » grounds of a monastic cloister

Penguin was a channeler. He wore a seven inch white mustache, and a long herringbone overcoat, which touched the ground. After early morning vespers he gave his warm anciently made bread away from a converted wooden baby carriage. It was free to the children, and we ate it happily as we walked home from services.

December 24th, 2015 » suburban Thai restaurant

They were in the red — one more month, one last shot. The owner let the dishwasher go. The wife took up another duty. Suddy hands, and the stone in her engagement ring fell out of the setting. She had it between her fingers for a second, then it slipped, down the drain, water rushing on high. The trap would have been worth it, but decisions got made.

December 23rd, 2015 » L.A. early 80s hot as Hades

“Anthony!” I had begged to avoid this and was risking blows that’d strip my mind. “Did you hear me, you wasteoid junkie? Get your shit and get out.”

December 22nd, 2015 » back alley of a shopping plaza circa 1992

The aroma of garbage, mingling plastics and edibles, hovered in a channel of air tainting a crisp winter night otherwise purified by fresh snow. A spotlight split the dark. Behind a big green transformer I waited, hoping they wouldn’t see me or the shadow I cast.

December 22nd, 2015 » along a marsh

You are made of mother nature. Take the long way home.

December 22nd, 2015 » on a mountain picked

At the summit is where the wind blows. Who is the king is the pillar.

December 3rd, 2015 » in a forest

No longer can the tree be seen, grown slow as pure time flows, and flown high. It is ground down and pulped to paper money.

November 8th, 2015 » at the edge of woods

Distill what grows, what is sensitive, to what it does — heighten the senses.

November 7th, 2015 » on a marsh

I need to go in the forest to find a new smell. Cut a path where the color of water elicits paint.

November 3rd, 2015 » on a bridge over a marsh

It went down, over there, that side, behind the hill. It’ll come up on the other side, over the ocean, just the same again tomorrow. Again and again – but not forever.

October 26th, 2015 » at a cemetery

Sun white blind me on this lichen covered stone that marks the grave of a better citizen than I promise not to be.

October 20th, 2015 » on a bridge over a bay

You dart, plover school. Shed cove water I catch – asperges.

October 18th, 2015 » afore sky picked

Electric pink rain rising. Blowing glue, glowing blue. Falling hue and slate after twilight’s final gleam.

October 16th, 2015 » on a bridge over a bay

Coruscating tide of seasons — whisk and wither those coastal grasses. Deliver us from color.

October 16th, 2015 » high in the sky

Feathering heights on an Arctic tailwind. Farewell, frigid bewitched.

October 14th, 2015 » at the edge of woods

There is no silence – and it’s not disquietude. It’s the odor of distant smoke creeping.

October 10th, 2015 » on a Blue Hill

Embering leaves among the fowl’s meadow – Dedham meets Canton meets Milton meets Boston. High and westward, on watch for Wachusett.

October 3rd, 2015 » on a hill in a forest

Woodland checkerboard — glare on the odd trees, shadowing across even. Angelic captive echoes run off.

September 20th, 2015 » triple overhead at a reef break picked

Crisp white tip to a blue wall rising, arcing, breaking like a thousand tiny glasses shattering on thunder — explosive boom.

September 16th, 2015 » in an estuary picked

Clouded recess of the pond where children just felt between their toes a thousand years of dust cum crème de la clay.

September 12th, 2015 » on the living room sofa

Uh gub uh zhig uh bug uh gub uh yuh.

September 9th, 2015 » amid salted air

We are all becoming. First, the flowers.

September 8th, 2015 » in a river

Trickling ripples flood spartina in current whirls, foremost yet somehow aside. Upcoming tide at sundown – the season ends wet hot.

September 5th, 2015 » in a darkling forest

Plick of black nightberry bush. Crystal raindrops on the key to a book. Animal eyes.

August 30th, 2015 » on a seaside sand dune

They lit fireworks over the fair tonight. I saw in the sky that all in good time he’ll be all good things.

August 28th, 2015 » in a cave picked

Cherry sugar drop. Quantum flux rill of light down cold water sea cave. Bats hasten.

August 23rd, 2015 » over the South Pacific

Brazen top brass motherfucker bandoliered with a heart of gold. Purple haze, choppers on attack. Surf’s up, Charlie – here comes Wagner.

August 20th, 2015 » on a treetop picked

Great objects of greenery. Pinnacle canopy, kingfisher atop.

August 19th, 2015 » on a shingle of castaway stones picked

Limbs are rigid. Skies are new. Rock bed, dusty eye, blurred but true.

August 19th, 2015 » knee deep in the North Atlantic picked

Teeth clattering, far away of a liquid sort. Undone, undine.

August 17th, 2015 » in a car on the highway

Super light caught in the trap of my eye. No exit, refracted scream. Enlightenment on the inside.

August 16th, 2015 » after an evening dip in the ocean

8:05 — horsefly bit my leg bayside. I’ll be thinking of it, with ironic nostalgia, on that crass-cold February evening coming down the way.

August 16th, 2015 » on the lawn of beach cottage

She told me her sister was a transvestite and asked me what I drank. I said I preferred martinis after an egg — only after an egg.

August 16th, 2015 » all along the wayside

If it were 1981 and I were a different man I’d come up to you without a qualm. But I don’t have a smartphone, and it’s post-9/11.

August 16th, 2015 » by the side of a shed

Go sit on the mahogany and the wicker in the enclosed porch of the white cottage that enters further into decrepitude as summers pass.

August 16th, 2015 » hidden in tall grasses

Wicked wallow — rainbow shallow. Greyscale bone all the ‘morrow.

August 15th, 2015 » after a summer thundershower

Water down, water up. Slow dance that steam, a fog about yay high and this thick. A feather on the face coupling with the aroma of roasted petroleum.

August 15th, 2015 » under a bridge over a river

Bikini bridge. Melted silver screen. No cipher. No dream.

August 15th, 2015 » on foot on road

Kick the path. Chuck the pack. Go left. Whatever the sad and has-been, it ain’t as bad as all that.

August 14th, 2015 » in a Nashville crowd

Break that something beautiful. Rebuild it back again. Crash that road and land a ways outside town.

August 14th, 2015 » at the base of a mountain

Rustling thicket, night vision on the mount. Duck, duck, goose chase.

August 14th, 2015 » in my head

In conjunction with hereafter and therefore, whereas the obligation to preceding does a jelly donut make.

August 14th, 2015 » outside a meadowland

Little girl in the Central Jersey Allstars shirt, outside the coffee shop everyday, with your dad lurking over there, I’m not giving you a dime. This is North Jersey.

August 14th, 2015 » among thicket

You approach, a melodious monk. I relive a midsummer daydream.

August 14th, 2015 » at the edge of a pond on an island picked

Follow the lark in architecture to stalky wood swinging low – a thousand year sip from the kettle of red lilies.

August 14th, 2015 » around the bend

Neutral cleanse of permeating pine. Crackle and calm, whispers in the dell. Light rods knight the benighted.

August 13th, 2015 » coming up from the river picked

Earthen rich, irony. Wet to the compress. So fine it tints skin. Nearly edible if not forbidden.

August 13th, 2015 » by the Indian Ocean

Slate plus purple plus orange plus heaven in a summer scent of salted rose hip. White noise.

August 13th, 2015 » watching dew on leaves picked

The gloss of grass glowed off gold morning. In time, the angle of light revealed patterns.

August 13th, 2015 » walking in tall dry grass picked

Like knives, blades shave. Strutting, carefully plodding. Mud swamp covered in tufts.

August 13th, 2015 » tributary of the Mthatha picked

Anguilla mossambica, Barbus anoplus, Barbus viviparous, Caffrogobius natalensis. Clarias gariepinus (translocated species), Glossogobius callidus, Monodactylus falciformes, and Mugil cephalus.

August 13th, 2015 » New Year's Eve outside alone

Ripe low orange glow, to fulgent sapphire on new snow.

August 13th, 2015 » under water at North River picked

Green sea river fog mist underwater. Current strong in the groove. Effervescent bubbles tingling from the deep.

August 13th, 2015 » under water at Block Island picked

Blurred but true. Seeing through. Proximal zone of fear reduced.

August 13th, 2015 » in a pine forest on after light snow

So many shades of green. But brown. Blue, brown and green. Puffs of white. Yellow touches the tops.

August 13th, 2015 » bearing witness picked

Untitled, unknown. Now it’s been seen, and changed for the seeing. Gone from here it will erase me with rain, with water, with new dew and thunder.

August 13th, 2015 » somewhere out there

Deep grey faded dots streaming white tails in a woody thicket.

Rooster Land
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Encapsulation

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Nota Bene

"A short story, if it is a good story, is like a child’s kite – a small wonder, a brief, bright moment." – Sean O'Faolain