All Posts By: Byron McCoy
BODY OF THE SUN
“…Isil the Sheen the Vanyar of old named the Moon, flower of Telperion in Valinor; and Anar the Fir-golden, fruit of Laurelin, they named the sun. But the Noldor named them also Rána, the Wayward, and Vása, the Heart of Fire, that awakens and consumes; for the Sun was set as a sign for […]
FALSE-NOOK
I built a desk believing, with it, I would write grand things. I built it with blood (I cut my hand with a wood chisel in the process of its making), sweat (but no tears, I didn’t cry; wrapped and promptly departed to get glued back together); but a funny thing about it: it […]
EDGE OF THE WILDS
“There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are on the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go.”—J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit On the edge of the wild was where she felt most alive, and in it then, she breathed full […]
HAPPENS TRUE
James tried to write, but neither words nor story showed. In evening’s fall, sky shone black and starless from clouded night, moon hinting as glow but undefined through mask of cover that moved low and fast, contours and folds of accented and shone as they crossed before the glow. Before window’s view, Annie […]