Poet and classical literature aficionado. Lover of the arts. Creator of short stories, poems, and articles. Hostess of The SchellingtonGrin Podcast.
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik
I awoke drenched in a sheen layer of sweat. Another adrenaline-filled fantasy encompassed my sleep. We had played another sold-out show, and when I looked over my shoulder, I could see my girl beaming at me and knew that I was right where I belonged. As I gained awareness of my surroundings in the dark bedroom, I looked to the nightstand to read the time. The digital clock read 2:45 a.m. I soon heard a soft sound coming from the end of the hallway and noticed the opposite side of the bed was vacant. I followed the sound out of the room, grabbing a bathrobe to cover myself.
A Letter to a Friend
You’ve been hurt. That much I can see. I see it in your eyes, in the way your shoulders tense, and in the harsh clench of your jaw. I hear it whenever you say things like “It’s nothing,” or “I’m fine.” I feel it when you hug me too tightly, afraid to let go and even more afraid to admit it.