William L. Truax III
Bio
Disabled Veteran, Father of 2.
I am a teller of tales and dreams, visions, haunting melodies, subtidal invocations of the mind and song.
Many of the Tales here interact with each other in some way and all within the same Universe.
Stories (60/0)
Call me Wind
It was then the at the last moments of my life that I have lived so long avoiding where I finally took a look around and seen what it was that I was once beholding. I took a long look around that was all around me, above, below, wipe out into the fields that the people were there planting and sowing, I watched the fires burn brightly in the night and seen all the stars in the sky erupt with all the light and shine. I sat there and watched the rise and fall of all the ones who came before and after, I watched the cities burn and turn to ashes, I watched the sky fall and grow back, seen the mountains give way and crack, fall to nothingness, and rise up once again tall and mightier than before, I seen the great halls of the days of yore where all those would meet, gather to and flock thereafter no more. I had seen the sights of those whom dwell in the hills and upon the valleys, I seen the old men cry out in anger and sob in their misery. I watched for eons with no thought or care to even set foot on their ground. I have been there above you and below you and all around. My name gives me purpose and cause and scene, I am called the Wind, my friend, welcome, what brings you to me?
By William L. Truax III7 months ago in Fiction
Star-Dog Ch. 2
I received this letter of confession from an inmate here at the Ark Asylum for the Criminally Insane and Desolate, here, I, Warden Cotton, shall recite into this phonograph the grave details that had transpired on the night in question where the man charged with the heinous offense of the Chicago Fire was placed under arrest and condemned then hung by the neck.
By William L. Truax III7 months ago in Fiction
The Star-Dog and I
It was in the middle of the spring of my youth when I were but a frail young man whom knew nothing of what the world had to offer, nor was I so young and thoughtless in my mind and eyes to know that all that was told unto me as a youthful boy was all that there was or ever will be. Here I protest to the thought that I knew and had never known anything. My youthfulness should not be apart of these thoughts that I write here, but since the quill can only take down what it is that the ink and hand place, well, it is as I said it was and that must be how I want to begin this.
By William L. Truax III7 months ago in Fiction
Message in a Bottle
The Letter from Tike; Exposure by Kultwrite. A letter arrived at the doorstep of my humble beginnings in this manner, and in that letter that had no date or time of placement I had felt that it was an urgent matter that needed my retainment henceforth. Being the man that I am or was, I had told those seeking solitude and yet in need of the services that I offer to expel me a written note with no time or date upon it and ship it to me within a fortnight of my requiring. Here the note then landed upon the subtle mailroom floor whereas I found it and opened it instantly.
By William L. Truax III7 months ago in Fiction
The Reappearance of Sir Edwin Cole Sr.
The Reappearance of Sir Edwin Cole Sr. Here, I found the late evening hours longing and raging on as the heat from the furnace was poetically cultivating heat from the fires it bore, a man gaining entry into the dorm that I was occupying. He seemingly had a vague expression cast upon his face as if nothing seemed to be the matter, and yet, here he was. I wondered up to the man, as I was in charge of admissions for the night and asked him if he was in need of assistance of any kind, then as if struck by some form of spell that he had been visible to, the man before me began to speak in a manner that was both provocative and highly unusual for the clientele that cater here.
By William L. Truax III7 months ago in Fiction
New Life
Here, as of right now on this date of May 12, 2021 we are just almost at or are at two weeks into our venture of finding a new place to live. We have been at this address here in Marinna, FL. for about five years and have had a lot of interesting memories, photo opportunities and life remembrance in general. This place has meant the world to us and though the owner is being courteous enough to give us till the end of the month to escape from here, we feel as though it is not enough. He graciously offered the home up to us, since he wants to sell the house now instead of renting it out any longer, but we, my wife and I, do not have the credit to but the house, we are forced into finding a new in a months’ time.
By William L. Truax III3 years ago in Journal
Imp
Cold, gloomy, and another rainy day in the small town where Geraldine and her three loves reside. She has a husband, Barry, and two boys, Todd and Emile. They are grown up enough to care for themselves but she does not want to let go of the grip that a mother has on her boys. She smiles at herself in the reflection on the metal napkin holder. Wiping away the lipstick that she had on to try to bring in more tips, but with no one coming in to eat, they, the employees, were afraid that the dinner will close early and no one in this small mining town will be able to eat. But the rain, fifteen days in a row, it had not stopped. The rain had flooded the streets all over town and not allowed anyone out of their homes without fear of being washed away.
By William L. Truax III3 years ago in Horror
Morning Monster
Waking up was a rough patch this morning, I felt a pressure on my body that I was starting to get used to. It was like the gods were wanting me to show how angry I could get today. Though thus far I have illuded the idea of anger, but at the same time, I want to give into it. There has been little feel that I could ever change the way that I want to.
By William L. Truax III3 years ago in Psyche
Soothing the Beast
Heart, your heart, it beats strong in one’s chest, bringing to life not only you, but all around you. I don’t feel that. It appears the idea that all will be okay, however in the thick of things, you, I, find us lost. Unsure of oneself, unsure and unaware that noting means something different than what you intended. You search for answers in the bottom of Jim Bean, but the bottom become two or more, you take a long drag off the blunt you roll, but the problem is there when you get down.
By William L. Truax III3 years ago in Beat
Depression and Music
The room is black in the early morning hours while I rise from my bedroom and walk out into the hallway. It is cream white and the hallway (like the rest of the house) has a smell of sage from my wife burning her Sage Incense the night before that has wafted through the rest of the house. As I enter the living room I notice the remaining stick sticking out of the long wooden holder. I open the cabinet where the remaining sage sticks were, I grab and light one. Then, as I turn toward the table across from me, I grab from the bag a handful of Sage and place it in a conch shell, light it and begin to smudge and cleanse my home after smudging myself first.
By William L. Truax III3 years ago in Psyche
How I Rise
How I Rise Nearly every morning is the same, dull, dreadful and a pain to rise from the behind the covers. Though lately I have been getting myself up eagerly awaiting my day. Turning on the lights at 0500 and I feel like coffee will not due, just because I drink it every day without delay. I walk the baren hallway and dodge the A/C grate in the center. My wooden floors cool against my black comfy socks, I wake my son for school. He slept in the living room on the new extremely comfortable furniture we just recently received from Farmers Furniture.
By William L. Truax III3 years ago in Families