Casey Promise Thompson
I’m a Visual Artist, Omnist, Wordsmith, Chronic Daydreamer and Lover of all things Brie.
Fruit From The Heavens
With the yearly nostalgic crunch of autumn leaves under his boots and the wind rushing through the trees, Charlie stood atop a small boulder and breathed in the new day with a euphoric calming gaze. He had his brand-new camera and was ecstatic to make the familiar trek into the woods at his favorite park.
Stepping off the sweet edge of darkness Body tense and bare Naked and still and soft and sweet A show of compassion For myself as I write this
When The Story Dies
I originally intended to write a fictional short story about a frozen pond. That was the prompt given to me, a specific challenge for Vocal Media. I opened my computer and my hands were all in a frenzy and my thoughts were sailing with the metaphorical wind and oh how the high got higher and I was flying.
When the Thundersnow Breaks
It had been an exhausting 1,200 miles of endless driving through flat landscapes, but then Jayden felt a stir of elation course through her body as she spotted the tips of the snow-covered Santa Fe Mountains come into view over the horizon.
The Unnatural Path of Humankind
One summer evening I sat and watched the buzzing brown beetles and a variety of other flying insects banging and flinging their bodies against the glass of the front porch light. I knew that in the morning many would be dead and once again I’d have to grab the broom and sweep their poor little bodies off into the mulch. I gazed and wondered as to why they hurdle themselves so violently against the glass. It was as if they were desperately searching for something they could never grasp.
John removed his hat and then smoothed over his cowlick with some spit on his hands just before he entered the cafe. The door bells jangled as he pushed open the heavy glass door and was relieved to see his favorite table empty.
Finding Myself with Vocal Media
Deep down we humans all want to thrive and be good at something. Many people dream about being a musician, a dancer, or a painter. Most all of us want something we can’t have. It’s sort of human nature to yearn for curly hair when you have straight and to have another life different from your own. It takes a lot of practice and self-belief to truly be comfortable with all that you have and all that you are.
Everything Is Temporary
My father made his way to the old spring well, murmuring to himself about how everything on the farm seemed to all fall apart at once.