About Me

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I am a writer and dreamer, currently working on blogs and a book series.

Portfolio

Here is my portfolio which is composed of a science-fiction series called The Goblin Tunnels; poetry; short stories and fanfiction.

Enjoy!


January 2016
The Goblin Tunnels: Hail to the King (And His Final Moments)


IN MEMORY OF DAVID BOWIE: 1947-2016


           He watched his followers invade the other world.  He waited for the last of them to exit the atrium before he withdrew into the Goblin Tunnels. 
            The Goblin King meandered ponderously into the hallway.  His feet were silent against the cold cement floor.  After delivering his speech, his blood was beginning to cool, the heat soaked up by the architecture around him. 
            Wires were a major decoration of the Goblin Tunnels.  They snaked the floors, ready to catch the clumsiest of creatures.  In some of the smaller hallways, such as this one, there was an abundance of wires hanging down; a couple of them were looped and camouflaged in this rubber jungle so the few creatures who would blindly run through would be caught by the neck thereby thinning out the herd. 
            The Goblin King pushed aside wire after wire.  He knew the locations of all the traps since he had helped build many of the Goblin Tunnels.  He was also very curious as to how things worked and he liked being several steps ahead of his enemies as well as those who were not his enemies.  The only creature you could trust was yourself.
            The Goblin King ascended the staircase and stood before an immense in-ground pool of light.  Thin wisps of heat were emitted by the lights, encompassing the Goblin King in a warm fog; he felt shivers slithering across his body. 
            Normally, he would have gone with his followers to the human world.  Normally, the Goblin King enjoyed watching what his words caused his devoted creatures to do in the name of fear and havoc.  But on this occasion of the empty Goblin Tunnels, he just wanted to listen to the silence.  As he did, the shadows in the corners seemed to grow and the expanse of the room seemed to gradually shrink.  With his every breath, the Goblin King had the sense that the room wanted to swallow him and for the first time, the Goblin Tunnels reminded him of a tomb.  He hurried out into the hallway, his heart hammering wildly.  Looking back into the room, all was as it should be.
            Continuing down the hallway at a slow pace, the Goblin King took deep breaths.  The path he took twisted and turned.  It was for sometime he walked and he would have continued on uninterrupted had it not been for a sudden light appearing in the corner of his eye.  Turning, he knowingly stared at that portal, remembering the shock and fear.  The Goblin King had gone through that portal as a lad.  And through that portal were steam pipes.
            It had only been a few months since the Goblin Tunnels had acquired him, but he had already grown accustom to his new way of life.  The physical and physiological changes had already begun and he had gone through many portals prior to this one.  There had been nothing to worry about; however he was alone this time.  The young Goblin walked through the faint, pulsating light that signalled the existence of a portal and he was immediately hit with a heat wave. 
            "That place was welcoming", recalled the Goblin King, "Until those pipes emitted that...  sound.  That cursèd sound."
            The young Goblin had frozen in panic as the piercing, high-pitched whistle blew.  The familiarity of the sound had shocked his mind and caused him to flee back into the safety of the Goblin Tunnels.  The Goblin King turned abruptly, continuing down the hall for the memory of her voice to return to its grave in the steam pipes.

            He entered a storage room with square shelving built into the walls.  The Goblin King had been exceptionally proud of this project, for who would have thought to organize chaos?  He ran a clawed hand over the glittering green limestone and when he came to a smooth patch, it gave him reason to pause.  The Goblin King now had a clear view of his appearance.  There was that human face of his staring back.  He had never fully turned into a goblin and he never understood why that was, however, he had been accepted despite this abnormality.  After several years had passed, he had earned the title of King for his visionary outlook and his service to the Goblin Tunnels. 

            The Goblin King ran his eyes all over his reflection in wonderment.  He couldn't remember if his eyes had always been two different colors or if his nose had changed shape.  Really, all that the Goblin Tunnels had done to him was exaggerate his own features: a few teeth had transformed into fangs, his finger and toe nails had elongated into claws and the hair on his head and chest had grown three times longer from their original length (whatever that had been).  As he stared at his unchanged face, the question turned round his mind.  As if in defiance, he dragged his claws across his reflection, pleasurably cringing at the sound they made on the stonework before he left the room.

            Up another set of stairs and the Goblin King was at the entrance to his throne room.  With red walls several stories high standing resolutely before him, pride swelled within him.  This was his favorite part of the Goblin Tunnels.  He believed that the entrance represented his essence.  The Goblin King was a sentinel that would lead his creatures out of the Dark Ages and restore the world the humans had destroyed.  As a smirk grew on his face, he entered.

            The throne room matched the height of the entrance with a golden throne standing at the furthest end; this was where he granted an audience with his loyal subjects and where all gathered after venturing into the human world.  He imagined what they would bring back from this particularly passionate attack.  The Goblin King stood at the center of the room, turning his back on his golden throne.  He was lost in revelry as he admired all that he had done since his succession.

            "So this is where you've been all this time."
            The Goblin King's body became rigid.  It was the voice from the steam pipes.  He turned around with dread and saw a young woman sitting on his throne.  She was a woman he remembered all too well; she was a woman he should not have remembered at all.
            "You shouldn't be here!" he impulsively shouted.
            "Is that how you welcome me to your kingdom?" she asked as she rose.  He reluctantly eyed her slender, dark skin as she moved towards him like a tiger in her slinky gold dress.  Emotions he had buried long ago began to crawl out of their graves and take hold of him.
            "No!" he shouted in rebellion.
            She stopped, startled, "But, you promised.  You said you'd be mine forever," she showed him her hand that had a ring on one of her fingers, "You're my love, my Da—"
            He rushed at her and pointed his clawed finger at her neck.
            "That is not my name.  Don't ever say that name.  I am the Goblin King!" he roared.
            "But, Da—"
            He struck her across the face, his claws scratching her eye.  She fell to the tiled floor and clutched her face.  Despite the stabbing pain and blood she felt, the blow had hurt him more. 
            She began to sob.  Without thinking, he knelt down beside her.
            "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry," Hot tears blinded him as he put his arms around her, "I'm so sorry." 
            With his head against hers, he rocked back and forth, "I don't know what I am anymore.  I was of your world, then this world and now... I don't know anymore," his body shook as he tried to keep everything in.
            She raised her bloody hand to his face, mingling his tears with her blood.  Looking up at him, she said, "My darling, you see what this world has done to you, but you don't see that inside, you're still human."
            "I don't know what to do."
            She turned to face him, still encircled by his arms, "Open up your heart to me once more."
            They were inches from each other.  He could feel the warmth from her body.  The memories were coming back to him, bringing him back to life.
            "You haven't changed," she said with a small smile despite the pain, "Nothing could ever make you change."
            And with that, he pressed his lips to hers with an almost-forgotten passion that overwhelmed him.



*  *  *


            The devoted creatures of the Goblin Tunnels returned victoriously: many were covered in blood, carrying parts to use in the Goblin Tunnels' expansion and others had new, unconscious recruits slung over their shoulders.
            They filed through the portals with cheers on their lips or stories of their moments in battle as they headed towards the Goblin King's golden throne.  After venturing into the human world, it was there they always gathered to bring their stolen goods before his worthy gaze.
            Through this labyrinth of tunnels, they reached his Royal Highness's throne and upon entering were greeted with a shocking sight.  They drew near.  Seated on his throne was the Goblin King, his arms open and laying on the arm rests and his head resting against his motionless chest.  The Goblin King was still in his war uniform, apparently unscathed.  Upon further inspection, one of the creatures cried, "He's bleeding!"
            They opened his jacket and saw a bloody, gaping hole where his heart should have been. 
            "The King is dead!"
            "The King has been killed!"
            "An intruder!  An intruder!"
            "Find the intruder!"
            Like lightening, the cry spread through the immense crowd of creatures returning from battle.  They scrambled to find the intruder, all the while in disbelief that such a thing had happened.  None of them had bothered to look at the Goblin King's face; although, even if they had, they would never have understood his expression.  The creatures understood very little of the human race. 
            Out into the labyrinth of tunnels they ran and searched and searched and ran, but they would never find the intruder, if there had ever been one.  They would never find his heart either, for although the Goblin Tunnels had claimed the Goblin King's body long ago, they would never have his heart



October 2015
The Goblin Tunnels: Vengeful Rupture


In a city somewhere, the underground uprising is felt...

            The wind is like a ghost breathing in.  And out.  The cars speed through as the people's heels beat against the pavement. 
            The tunnel is alive. 
            I'm waiting, in the moving crowd, for the motion, the moment that will initiate the fear and bring terror like rapids through us all. 
            Move, Monster.  Move.
            I scan the walls expecting it to crack the graffiti on its insides.  It knows the mess we have made.  Are the scribbles too acidic?  Is the Monster burning in its paralysis? 
            Alien, invade us.  All we want is contact.
            We know all about you and your kind.  Which version will you be, and with what language?  What technology?  We are human.  And we are God.  We destroy what we do not understand.  So, for your sake... conform.   
            I breathe in unison with the Beast.  Out in the extremities of it, I hear a gigantic roar with digestive fluids coming down.  Some drip beside me.  My heart shakes with realization that this Giant doesn't have to make contact.  It has already invaded us.  It does burn and is now having its revenge.
            The ground opens its mouths.  It swallows the Living.  It swallows the Dead.  Do we taste bitter, or sweet?
            It is taking our world, tuning it inside out.  Do our screams earn us no mercy?  We are sorry.  And we will change.  Oh, spare us...


 
January 2015
The Goblin Tunnels: Resurgence

 
September 2014
The Woman Representative


           As the rays cascade down her, she has struck a permanent pose.  She is susceptible to her owner who can and does reveal her to the world.  The choice is his and his alone.  Showered in brilliance, the owner's dressers drape the female in fineness, operating her like a marionette's master. 
            Should one happen to look at the female's face, one will see a deadness in the eyes, one of which the owner much desires.  Occasionally, however, a fiery fury will flare up in the female, but it is quickly extinguished by the innumerable dressers.  Despite her efforts, a silk shirt caresses her smooth bare breasts and is tied tightly round her torso.  Next, the pocket-less skirt is forced up the female's open legs to hug her hips and keep her in her place.  Now she must monitor her movements lest the skirt ride up.  She is denied a purse for they have none.  As it is, they like her to beg for what she wants. 

            The scarf is wrapped roughly round her neck, reminding her of a noose. 

            Her hair is fixed so it won't move.  No make-up is necessary; her skin is unnaturally unblemished. 

            The female is heaved atop her dais, stuck there till the next change.

            Despite being mostly clothed, the imprints of hands have made their marks on her body.

            As they clear away pieces of the female's skin that had landed upon the floor, they foolishly turn their backs on her, and those who don't, blink continuously.  Every so often they ask each other when they're not serving clients: "Did that mannequin just move?"



March 2014
As the World Falls Down Part 2: To Step Out of Mind


           I ran up the stone steps two at a time, yearning to get out of this horrible place.  Anticipation flowed through me; I was almost there!  Almost at the top.  I had spent days, maybe weeks in this dark world and I wanted out.  Round and round up the tower, I was getting dizzy.  I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and began to think, "Wait, how did I get here?"  I couldn't remember how I had reached the Goblin King's castle.  And for that matter, how had I gotten out of that confusing Labyrinth?  I closed my eyes and like teeth, pulled at my memories for the answers...

            But they wouldn't come.  I opened my eyes and decided that it didn't matter.  I was close to escaping this world anyway.

            I finally reached the top and pushed the door open wide, unable to stop running until I hit the rim of the tower.   This was the place that would lead me to the normal world.  My hands gripped the edge as I panted heavily.  My eyes searched the landscape, then I turned around.  There was only the door that led down the tower; there was nothing else within the small circumference. 

            "I made a mistake!  I took a wrong turn!"

            I took a step toward the door, but stopped at the sight of the Goblin King ascending the last steps.  Now, he blocked my path.

            "You're so strong, Wolfina," He had that smug grin, "Not to mention determined."

            "What did you do?" I said, angrily.

            "What do you mean?" he asked, knowing full well.

            "You did something!  I remember everyone telling me that the only way to get back to my world would be to reach the tallest tower of the Goblin King's castle.  Here I am yet, I can neither see a way back, nor can I remember how I got to the castle," I exhaled angrily through my nostrils, "So, I ask you again: What did you do?"

            The Goblin King purred contently, "I may have threatened them into telling you that lie and I may have erased your memory of the Labyrinth just in case you got away from me again.  I couldn't have you knowing the path of the Labyrinth, now could I?"

            He took a step toward me and I instinctively moved into combat position with my hands up, adamantium claws out.  The metallic sound of my claws sliding out of my hands startled Jareth as if he hadn't been aware of their existence.  His confident disposition had disappeared and he eyed my claws, uncertain. 

            "Wolfina," he whispered, "Why are you afraid of me?"

            "Like you don't know!  You have a black heart and I want no part of it!  Any of this!"

            My words struck him, "Is that all you see?"
            "Oh, sorry.  Your cold, black heart."
            He rushed at me and griped both my hands with his bare ones, holding my claws against his chest, "Then tear it out, Wolfina!  Tear out my 'cold, black heart'!"
            Jareth stared into my eyes, daring me.  I didn't know what to say or how to react, "I...I..."
            "You call this place 'horrible', 'awful', 'dark', and 'evil', and it is.  It is, Wolfina, and so am I," He paused, "But not if you're here."
            I stopped breathing for a second.  I began wondering if this was real, if any of it was real.  I slowly retracted my claws, unsure whether or not I should believe him.
            "You're the light in this world, Wolfina.  Stay with me," I felt Jareth encompass me with his arms, pull me closer, "If I send you back, you will be alone in that hideous world, fending for yourself.  But here... you'll have me."
            I looked into his mismatched eyes and still saw the evil within him.  I felt his soft lips descending upon mine and as we kissed, I understood why he had said we were so alike: he was predominantly evil as I was predominantly good.  I had the Beast inside me and he had light inside him. 
            The passion between us began to grow.  Jareth lovingly kissed my neck and I felt his hands slide down my waist.  I wrapped my arms around him, never wanting the embrace to break.  I had endured centuries of torture and fear and now, I was finally happy.  I felt loved as I gazed up at the orange sky, feeling Jareth move toward my shoulder.  But then, slowly, the sky was beginning to fade.
            "Jareth? Something's wrong!"
            As it grew darker and darker, I felt Jareth letting me go and I was falling.
            "Don't forget me, Wolfina."



*  *  *




            My eyes opened.  It was dark. I was lying on a table and felt my body was naked.  Then I felt that I was cold.  My eyes adjusted and I felt around with my hands.  I knew this place. I was in a mortuary.  For.  The.  Four.  Millionth.  Time.

            Using my mind, I teleported to a skyscraper and at the same time, made some clothes materialize on my body.  It was the dead of night.  I stood on the edge of the skyscraper roof and suddenly, it hit me that all I had been through in that orange-skyed world had been nothing but my imagination as I lay dead and healing.  I felt betrayed.  I had betrayed myself. 

            I let loose a scream of tortured insanity and allowed the Beast to ravage any black-hearted person it came across as we ran through this cruel reality together, saving the innocent.
 
As the World Falls Down Part 1: A Wolfina Escapade


            You can't imagine what it's like to have to endure the burning of your own flesh.  There was a screen of flames that separated me from the little girl and since she was too afraid to pass through the flames herself, I had to extend my arm in order to coax her towards me. 

            "Come on!" I shouted above the crumbling of the building, "It's alright!"

            Coughing from the acrid smoke and getting angry from the pain, I moved closer and grabbed her whether she liked it or not.  I understood her fear and confusion, but I had to get us out of there.  I looked at my arm for a second and saw a good portion of it was charred.  I tried to maneuver to the stairs and dodge out of the way of falling debris and flames.  We could hardly breathe.  In most of the fires I had ended up in, it was always a child I had to rescue.  I never understood that.  And I have not decided whether it's worse to go up or down a burning building.  I've been in buildings when they've collapsed and when they've buried me alive in the basement.

            By the time we reached the bottom floor, I had lost the flesh on my upper arm, parts of my body were charred and I barely had any clothing left.  We got outside and I collapsed onto my knees, coughing and still holding the girl; the cold, fresh air struck my smoke-filled lungs.  

            I looked up and despite my tearing eyes, I saw the parents running towards us, crying for Molly, but then as I expected, the mother stopped short and screamed.  He husband yelled, "Get away from her, you monster!"

            They could see my arm.  Though the flesh was gone, the adamantium covering my bones was very visible and betrayed my identity.  I let Molly go and she ran to her parents.  She didn't seem afraid.  At least, not of me.  It hurt to see them: a family, me: on my hands and knees, almost burned to a crisp and choking into the earth. 

            "Hey, you!"

            Startled, I turned and saw a police officer coming towards me, a hand on his gun.  I leapt up and ran from the scene despite being blinded by my ashy tears.  I heard his footfalls; he was running so I dropped to my hands and sped ahead of him on all fours.  I turned into an alley and climbed the drainpipe onto the roof.  I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, never daring to stop, never daring to look back. 

            When the instinct to flee had died down, I found myself walking on a bridge.  My body shook and I couldn't stop crying.  Those people!  Those humans blinded by fear for the unknown and the different! 

            "Why do I try to make a difference?" I wondered, "Why do I still help the humans after all their venomous words and witch hunts?"

            I gazed out onto the water.  I helped them because I could, because I couldn't die and therefore had nothing to look forward to, nothing to do but to live in a world that hated me.  All I did was hope.  I hoped that, one day, society would see beyond my adamantium, beyond the Beast inside me and say, "You are good."

            With both hands gripping the metal railing, I hurled wolfish roars into the night.  I turned, taking deep breathes when I saw it: a gigantic truck barrelling down the bridge.  Here was my chance to, again, kill myself and hope to never wake up.  I waited.  Timing was everything.  At the last minute, I leapt in front of it.



*  *  *



            The next time I opened my eyes, I was looking up at the sky.  But the sky was a burnt orange.  Sensing something was wrong, I got to my feet and there, down in the valley, lay an intricate labyrinth.  It led into what looked like a city and then beyond that was a castle.  The atmosphere of this world seemed sombre and dark.  I didn't like the feeling.

            "So, what do you think?"

            I whirled around.  A man in black wearing a cape stood beside a dead tree.  His light blonde hair was long and wild, the ends of his eyebrows curved upward, but his eyes, his eyes were the most peculiar.  One was light and the other was dark with the pupil dilated.  Slowly he grinned and I saw his inner darkness.

            "Do you like my kingdom?" he asked again.  I noticed his British accent.

             "Where am I?"

            He advanced, looking past me, "The Goblin City.  Isn't it horrible?"

            "Who are you?" I took a step away.

            "Jareth, the Goblin King, at your service," he bowed, then looked at me, still grinning.

            "Why am I here?"

            "Because, Wolfina, I heard you.  I heard your screams, your shouts, your tears, everything.  And so, I saved you from that truck and brought you here, where I knew you'd be happy."

            "What?"

            "We share a great deal.  I'm sure you can sense it."

            "I don't know what you're talking about and you had no right to bring me here.  Send me back."

            He eyed me curiously, "You want to go back?"

            "Yes!"

            "You're not thinking clearly—"

            "Yes, I am.  I want to go back —"

            "Back to what!?  Back to what, Wolfina?  Hm?  Back to the fear?  The self-sacrificing?  The suicidal thoughts that tormented you?  The sadness?  'You're a freak!'  'You're a monster!'—"

            "Stop it!!!" The tears were starting again.

             He obeyed and looked at me with genuine sympathy, "But here, those names don't exist.  You're safe here."

            Looking toward the Labyrinth and the Goblin City, I was starting to think Jareth was right.  There was nothing in that other world for me.

            "Besides, you suit this place quite well."

            I looked back at him, "What do you mean?"

            "Why, there's darkness in you, Wolfina.  That's one reason why I love you and want you here.  You're like me," And, again, his expression betrayed the evil inside him.

            "I am NOTHING like you!" I went to strike him and realized that there was something in the other world that wasn't here: good... and beauty, and light.

            He caught my wrists.  As we struggled, he laughed, "Oh Wolfina, you belong here and you know it!  You just can't bear the thought of it!!!"

            I pulled away and ran down into the valley toward the Labyrinth, seeking the way out of this dimension.





March 2013

The Goblin Tunnels: A New Possession




Appearing suddenly
Much like Death,
An open gate
Tempting,
Beckoning,
My entry
Like the Devil himself.

Walls as thick as waterfalls
A sepulchral realm contaminated.
Ghosts, goblins, demons.
Their eyes soulless.
Their hearts evil.
Terrified, I turn to escape.


Discoveries provoke painstaking measures.
You have seen too much.
Take her!

Dragging me back into their nightmare
Clawed, cold, hands upon me.
Vocal electricity erupts,
Can no one hear me!?

My children, Mary and Michael.
My loving husband, Paul.
My books.
My art.
My name is...

Insanity!
Is your mentality.
Black and white!
Is your reality.
Death!
Is your life.
One of us!

The portal seals shut.


                                                                                                ...until the next time.










March 2013
The Goblin Tunnels: Swarm


March 11, 2013

Dear Éric,
  

            We have spoken so much about these Goblin Tunnels and recently, I found one.  At least, I thought I did.  I will explain:


            As you know, I work at a cegep and on my break, I went around the school, (with my trusty camera, of course), and took some great shots of the architecture.  Even though it's been several years that I've been working there, I had never explored all the nooks and crannies.  This time, however, I dared myself.  What I found was far from expected.  In the main hallway of the school's basement, which is used on a daily basis by both students and staff, I began taking pictures of the walls.  It was perfect: silent and deserted.  It wasn't entirely daunting because there was a lot of light.  I was using a flash and on my fifth or sixth photo, I put the camera to my eye once more, clicked and saw the flash blink.  When I lowered my camera, everything changed.  Color had... oh, how to explain it?  Color had... expired like someone's dying breath.  At first nothing looked familiar until I realized the floor I had been standing on seconds before, now acted as the wall to this new and twisted world.  It was cold with the wind making loud, deep moanings.  I took another photo without a flash and walked on to make further discoveries. 


            As I moved, it was as if I were walking through a swamp; it was incredibly difficult.  I hadn't gotten far when I noticed something on the wall that appeared to be ripping away from it.  When I got closer, I saw that it was a swarm of a type of insect.  I quickly took more pictures and when I looked at them again, I saw, in between them, that there was color, but as they moved toward it, the color disappeared!  I think they were some sort of parasite, sucking the color from this second world, but I don't know for sure!  One suddenly landed on me because I was in color.  I screamed, dropping my camera.  There was a flash as I furiously tried to get the thing off me.  Then, I was back in the school in my colorful world.  My heart was thudding like mad.  I looked back down at my arm and saw nothing.  I looked around and around and couldn't see the parasite or anything of the other world.  I was so shaken that for a short while I was sure I had imagined the whole thing, but I hadn't!  I have the photographs which I've sent you.  When I told my other friends and some of my family members of my experience, absolutely none of them believed me!  They think I created the photos on Photoshop!  In fact, almost all of them are encouraging me to seek therapy.  I don't know who else to turn to.  I tell you, Éric, I DID NOT imagine it!  I'm hoping that you, of all people will believe me. 





                                                                                                            Your friend,


                                                                                                             Guadalupe


February 2013

The Goblin Tunnels: The Préfontaine Event

            The citizens of Montreal are no longer safe!  Eyewitness reports of so-called 'Goblin Tunnels' are increasing on a weekly basis.  Several Goblin Tunnels have been discovered in the past few years in the underground metro system and officials have roped them off to prevent the innocent from entering due to the popular belief that the tunnels belong to the realm of the occult.  Now, however, these Goblin Tunnels have transmuted into a frequent supernatural phenomenon, making the city and its citizens vulnerable.  Some are calling it a plague that is spreading its infection throughout the underground.  What's worse is that some of the tunnels are invisible to the human eye. 
            Yesterday morning, a woman in her late twenties was at the Préfontaine station, on her way to work when things turned ugly:
            "I got off the train as usual, walked up the flight of stairs and headed for the exit that goes outside.  When I reached the top of the stairs and turned down the corridor, along with a few other people, I suddenly felt a cold wind blowing.  But it wasn't a normal wind that's often in the metro, I mean, I could feel it blowing my hair and coat, but it felt as if it were blowing through me.  My insides felt the current.  Then, everything slowed down and colors faded to black and a painful white.  I thought I was in a nightmare.  No one around me seemed to notice; not even when the corridor started to turn so that they were upside down, but somehow I had also turned.  It was just awful!  The gravity of the entire place changed; I was being pulled forward, backward and up and down!  And the air pressure changed and it began squeezing my lungs.  I don't know how, but I got out of there and ran outside screaming!"
            After her frightening ordeal, the woman was brought to the hospital to be treated for shock.  I spoke briefly to her doctor and he questioned her sanity.
            A middle-aged man came forward after hearing about the young woman's experience and recounted a similar story.  The events of said story took place two days prior to the young woman's incident. The man was on his way home from spending the day with friends.  He, too, was at the Préfontaine station and in the same corridor, but was walking in the opposite direction to the platform.  Drowsy with drink, the man stumbled through the corridor, noticing a couple a few feet ahead.  He paused for a minute, leaning against the wall and when he looked down the corridor once more, he saw the couple and then suddenly, they faded away.  At the time, the man shrugged off the startling incident, blaming the alcohol, but now, he soberly believes that our world is connected to other dark dimensions:
            "To Hell with aliens from outer space!" the man stated, "We've got to worry 'bout the aliens on Earth!"
            Many wonder, (myself included), about the couple.  Were they ghosts returning to their world, or were they of flesh and blood, taken against their will to another realm? 
            I foolhardily dared to try my luck at the Préfontaine station.  Needless to say, the young woman was accurate.  It is a place that is definitely not a Wonderland.  What my camera and I saw made my blood run cold.  It is a place that can breed insanity should one end up trapped.   




November 2013
The Goblin Tunnels: Heart's Desire


Clinking crystals,

Ticking Time,

Beyond the light, what will I find?



Maze of mirrors winding.

Precious sparkles of amethyst.

More, more, I can't resist!



Choose a particular path.

A floor varnished in garnet.

I must follow it.



Hall of panes,

Reflecting the refine,

Free of any dark signs.



Alone sits a throne,

Decked in gleams of gold.

Shall I be so bold?



Pray, have a seat.

Wonder at the raining rhinestones.

I feel cold clawing at my bones.



One black being by my side.

Tremors lined in tourmaline.

A decorous disorder, so it would seem.



Rolling thunder,

Lightening striking,

A valley of the Dead.



With a crash, comes the final sound

Of my concealment, forever bound.



Whispers chanting,

A strange rhyme,

Beyond the light, what will you find?

2 comments:

Laura Dunbar said...

Great blog! I look forward to following your work on Convozine. So encouraging to see such talent in a young writer.

The Red Wolf said...

Thank you, Laura!