Writers must use manual registration (not Facebook Connect).
Register at this link. After writers log-in, a drop-down menu will appear in this location containing all Writer Controls for this site. This is where a bio and microcerpts are added.
microcerpt is a breakthrough publishing platform/community connecting readers and writers through a "universe of excerpts..
Use advanced navigation for a better experience. You can quickly scroll through posts by pressing the above keyboard keys. Now press the button in right corner to close this window.
Upon the sides of Latmos was outspread
A mighty forest; for the moist earth fed
So plenteously all weed-hidden roots
Into o'er-hanging boughs, and precious fruits.
And it had gloomy shades, sequestered deep,
Where no man went; and if from shepherd's keep
A lamb strayed far a-down those inmost glens,
Never again saw he the happy pens 70
Whither his brethren, bleating with content,
Over the hills at every nightfall went.
Among the shepherds, 'twas believed ever,
That not one fleecy lamb which thus did sever
From the white flock, but pass'd unworried
By angry wolf, or pard with prying head,
Until it came to some unfooted plains
Where fed the herds of Pan: ay [...]
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.
How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
My story begins with a question.
How do you grieve for someone who isn’t really dead?
The thought can be triggered by just about anything -- an offhand comment made by a friend or a complete stranger, a telephone call, a song, a photograph, a movie, a TV show or by taking a long walk in an old, familiar place. The thought comes unbidden, often catching me off guard. Once in my head it is not easily banished and in idle moments I lose the battle to keep the irritant at bay. It forces its way to the surface and no matter [...]
But, as it befell, morning's waking brought only darkness, the heavy pattering of a tropic shower, and the absence of the everlasting roll of the paddle-wheels. We were crawling slowly along, in thick haze and heavy rain, having passed Sombrero unseen; and were away in a gray shoreless world of waters, looking out for Virgin Gorda; the first of those numberless isles which Columbus, so goes the tale, discovered on St. Ursula's day, and named them after the Saint and her eleven thousand mythical virgins. Unfortunately, English buccaneers have since then given to most of them less poetic names. The [...]
"I tell you, Haley, this must not be spoken of; I say no, and I mean no," said Shelby, decidedly.
"Well, you'll let me have the boy, though," said the trader; "you must own I've come down pretty handsomely for him."
"What on earth can you want with the child?" said Shelby.
"Why, I've got a friend that's going into this yer branch of the business - wants to buy up handsome boys to raise for the market. Fancy articles entirely - sell for waiters, and so on, to rich 'uns, that can pay for handsome 'uns. It sets off one of yer [...]
"Oh, we're all cats, mewing or spitting as the fit takes us," said Mrs. Belgrove comfortably. "I can't see why cat should be a term of opprobrium when applied to a woman. Cats are charmingly pretty animals, and know what they want, also how to get it. Well, my dear?"
"I believe she was in love with Noel herself," ruminated Lady Garvington.
"Who was in love? Come to the point, my dear Jane."
Mrs. Belgrove laughed. "Oh, that ancient history. Every one who was anybody knew that Clara would have given her eyes--and very ugly eyes they are--to have married Noel Lambert. [...]
"Stay here beside her, major. I shall not he needed for an hour yet. Meanwhile I'll go downstairs and snatch a bit of sleep, or talk to old Jane."
The night was hot and sultry. Though the windows of the chamber were wide open, and the muslin curtains looped back, not a breath of air was stirring. Only the shrill chirp of the cicada and the muffled croaking of the frogs in some distant marsh broke the night silence. The heavy scent of magnolias, overpowering even the strong smell of drugs in the sickroom, suggested death and funeral wreaths, sorrow and [...]
At these words my husband lost all patience. "I have," said he, "too long listened to your falsehoods." As he spoke he clapped his hands, and in came three slaves: "Pull her out of bed," said he, "and lay her in the middle of the floor." The slaves obeyed, one holding me by the head, another by the feet; he commanded the third to fetch a cimeter, and when he had brought it, "Strike," said he, "cut her in two, and then throw her into the Tygris. This is the punishment I inflict on those to whom I have given [...]
'Mf!' said Maisie, sniffing the air. 'I wonder what makes the sea so smelly? I don't like it!'
'You never like anything that isn't made just for you,' said Dick bluntly. 'Give me the cartridges, and I'll try first shot. How far does one of these little revolvers carry?'
'Oh, half a mile,' said Maisie, promptly. 'At least it makes an awful noise. Be careful with the cartridges; I don't like those jagged stick-up things on the rim. Dick, do be careful.'
'All right. I know how to load. I'll fire at the breakwater out there.'
He fired, and Amomma ran away bleating. The bullet [...]
Have you ever wondered why
half the stories we love to hear
have excitement hanging on the sly
hovering when the end is near.
All story tellers know the trick
and use it to the full.
Around the world and back so quick
at the tellers feet we lull.
Long after Scheherazade her
long stories she did tell,
left the King waiting for another
lest her blood might spill.
On the TV and the movie screen
or even written in a book
opens a world we've never seen
our cliff hanger holds the hook.