Dead Letters Found in the remnants of rains that never fell, in the darkest corners of the broken heart, in the scars that crisscross your fragile form, I find dead letters of who you were. Taken, or given, we’ll never know, left to mutter through dead letters, dead bones, dead bodies and dreams, someone once… Continue reading Dead Letters
Category: Story
A sampling of my stories and poems giving you a glimpse into the darkness.
Hidden Eyes – story
Hidden Eyes It had only been a moment. Only a moment. It was only a moment but in that moment the sun ceased giving off its heat, the weight in the soldier’s hands became like lead, and the twenty-year-old’s blood turned immediately to ice. He felt suddenly cold beneath the sweat of the summer’s day,… Continue reading Hidden Eyes – story
Back From Nothing
Back From Nothing Get my first book of short stories, BACK FROM NOTHING for only $5 plus shipping. See how it all started and where I came from. Dark. Unrelenting. Real. If you are interested in purchasing Back From Nothing email me at - pumpkinpete0013@yahoo.com for more info.
A Frowning Jar (my birthday story for Miss Justin P)
A Frowning Jar So, I met this girl a couple of years ago when I was in college. Nice enough girl, a history major, but she never smiled. And when I say never, I mean never. It was the strangest thing. I had never, and have not since met someone who just didn't smile. Even… Continue reading A Frowning Jar (my birthday story for Miss Justin P)
Red Hands
Red Hands I wonder if I am the only one that sees it. Wondering if we’ve just become accustomed to the smell of murder, sound of death, and sight of anguish, living in our blood red world. I find I can’t even look at people’s hands anymore. Not even my own. The sight of all… Continue reading Red Hands
Happen – story
Things happen. Not for a reason. Not with a purpose. They just happen. Things…happen. This river for example. In 1932 there was a group that had come 100 miles for a mass baptism. They’d heard the tales of the women around here, the stories of six sisters who were powerful and old and who took… Continue reading Happen – story
Old Folks – story
The air chills quickly as the sun slowly makes its way from its throne up high in the heavens toward the darkness far below and then a fleeting sleep. An old man groans and stretches himself as the sun slides away – his legs lifting up and moving out from under his rocker and over… Continue reading Old Folks – story
Apple Sauce and Rodeo Clowns – a story
Apple Sauce and Rodeo Clowns This wasn’t my dream. This wasn’t my fantasy. This wasn’t what I spent hours thinking about and planning for when I was a kid. Dentist. Fucking dentist. Who wants, who dreams of being a dentist. Who dreams of years and years of college so you can become a dentist. There’s… Continue reading Apple Sauce and Rodeo Clowns – a story
Flower Pot – story
Flower Pot Silence was our bond. Nothingness was our partnership. Loss was our lover. Yet here we were. The silence has become a weight between us that neither seems strong enough to carry or move. The silence is an ocean neither of us can swim across. This silence is an umbilical cord wrapped tightly around… Continue reading Flower Pot – story
Crutches – a story
crutches- A fly buzzes aimlessly around the ceiling fan, darting craftily between the blades as the fluorescent lights hum absently to themselves. A police car screeches around the street corner and the blinded widows stare after it. The waitress pokes her head out of the kitchen door and then pulls it back in when she… Continue reading Crutches – a story
Father – a story
I guess my dad was right after all, I’ve lived all this time and I’m nothin’. Nothin’. I never had anything spectacular happen to me, no heroic war stories, no tall tales of runnin’ from the law, no scandals, no nothin’. I sit around here most days and wonder what the fuck happened to Time,… Continue reading Father – a story
Altar – story
Altar heart torn free, bleeding, beating, dying and dead. mouth wide and falling, like hope, to gather dust and become one with the detritus. in my head the phantom echo, murder murmur of the fading beats. my eyes sink into my skull, boil, erupt, explode into infinity leaving me not starfield but blackhole, which whispers… Continue reading Altar – story
Faceless Angels – a story
Faceless Angels The blood and tears ran together and met beneath the boy's nose and hung there, above his lip, before finally splashing below to join the growing pool. He knelt before the other boy, two years older, twenty pounds heavier, and not even breathing hard, and watched as the crowd around them shrank… Continue reading Faceless Angels – a story
The Spooky World of Chris Ringler 