East of the Sun | West of the Moon

Once the last breath of air is inhaled and I slip underwater, the world expands as my lungs contract. I lose all sense of time, transported to a different dimension. My skin dissolves and I am one with the ocean. Immersed in my element - water.  I dive down to the bottom as quickly as I can - no time or gesture wasted. Loose, fluid, relaxed - yet intent and focused to get to the good part and my main objective.  Pearl Diver  |  © StefanLins/Flickr Walking on the sea bed. Feeling the crunch of the grit and sand. Colors dimmed. First the reds go. Then the oranges. The yellows after. I float in a world of greens and blues in the light, indigo and purple in shadow.  Skimming past undulating seaweed. Zipping by coral and rock.  Pulling, Propelling. Projecting.  Purposeful. Primed. Primordial.  Lost in my overblown sense. Blanked out. No agenda.  Aimless and free, I dive as I please, in sensual pleasure. Poised on the brink of a precipice. What now? Time for more exploring? Or should I head

On hiatus when Trump got elected, now that he's been ousted I am happy to return. This time back I'm here to regale you with my fiction. Hopefully we shall all be regaled.  on the  Hoboken  NJ pier On February 2010, soon after I had just moved to Hoboken, New Jersey - the one square mile former island, now reclaimed and made famous by its most notorious resident, Frank Sinatra - I took a flash fiction writing class at the community college where I first met my writing teacher, John McCaffery .  Over a decade later, our main group of Hoboken writers still meet up and write together regularly. We have since evolved into a tight knit group of friends with shared histories. A few have published books as well - kudos to them!  I have none just yet though here is where you can now find the pieces I am working on.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I do too.