... my house? Just got stormed by about 15 city cops. No.Shit. *blinks* Apparently? Someone phoned from a cell phone and said they'd heard gunshots inside the house, gave my address and everything. So the cops... show up in force (remember I live in a bad neighbourhood) they surrounded the house... full tactical gear too... then knock on the front door... my mother was asleep on the couch... and...

She's unsure where everything went wrong, at birth, her toddler years, when she refused to conform to what her family wanted her to be, who her family wished she'd be. It's never been clear to her, clear to her way of thinking, what exactly went wrong, why they can't understand her choices. "I'm going mom. I'm going and... Just don't." Shaun composed her features as she held the phone a few inches...

The world is a miserable place. People are people, no matter how enlightened they say they are, how tolerant they pretend to be. We no longer fight over the color of skin, or the faiths we each follow. There is peace and tolerance, and sometimes it almost seems like a utopian society. I've read about what it was like before, before the change. When the color of your skin mattered more than who...

"What do you mean you quit?" Max's voice came over the phone line, nearly deafening Shaun. "Keep it down would you? I've got supersensitive hearing, in case you've forgotten," Shaun paced back and forth in agitation as she forced herself to calm down. "I said I'd quit the Driscol firm. I can't keep letting them do this to me. I can't keep taking these shitty jobs, just because they think they're...

The one thing Shaun hated was having to use a cane, it always made her feel conspicuous. Like everyone was staring holes in her back, side, front, as she traipsed around town in broad daylight, trying not to trip over anything in her path. "I hate this stupid thing." Shaun cursed for the fiftieth time. "If you'd just take my arm, you could fold the damn thing away, and then we'd both be happy...

Sitting in the lobby of the Driscol building was never a pleasant experience. Waiting to go up to the top floor, to file the paperwork on whatever case she'd just closed made it even more tedious. Her mother would be waiting, wringing her hands, pacing back in forth, practically frothing at the mouth in worry, and trying to come up with yet another argument about why Shaun shouldn't be doing her...

Bits and pieces of what I've been working on lately. Original fic bit behind the cuts in the posts to come... not in any sort of order. The darkness was practically eating at her, chewing away at the insides of her stomach. Waiting had never been her strong suit, never been one of her strengths. The way she sees it, all hell should break loose as soon as she steps on the scene. "Shaun? He's coming...

So I've been thinking about books... original and such... characters and what is popular and what's been done a thousand times already. I know not making much sense right? Bahh... me and sense making are not of the good friends right now. But anyways. I've been thinking about original characters... and all the things that have and haven't been done over and over and over again. So yes... original...

My Sister-in-law's brother... who was only 28... whom I grew up with, since My Sister in law and brother have been together for 16 years... died early this morning. We're all reeling in shock. It wasn't a tragic accident, it wasn't some happenstance... he came home at 3 a.m. and sometime there-after, he very quietly hung himself in the laundry room, without waking the whole family up. His mother...

I thought about what to write... and I thought some more... and I tried to work the words out in my head, and they just... didn't make sense. They wouldn't coagulate into a semi solid mass. They just keep swarming around inside my head like a minefield of annoying mosquitoes. So I thought… why think about it? Why not just sit down and put fingers to keyboard, and work out what I’m trying to say...