©2019-2022 michael raven

“Enough of yer damned pussivantin’ n’ fiddlin’! Get off me property!”

It was clear Old Ed meant business, the way he was waving that shotgun around, but Detective Guile wasn’t about to be scared off by a length of rust-pocked steel.

“Now, see here, Mr. Kyle — we’ve got to make sure that the torso these body parts belong to didn’t happen to come from your side of the wall.”

He was talking about the low stone wall pockmarked with blue flakes of moss and clusters of buffalo grass circling Old Ed’s place, a wall Old Ed had put up when he was still young. He’d built that wall with the rocks that littered the land and Old Ed was known to say with some laughter at the Watering Hole (when he was still prone to being capable of laughter) that rocks were about the only thing his family could honestly be accused of growing on their land. No one doubted it.

“You ain’t gonna touch me land without a writ or a peekaboo hole in your chest. Take your pick,” Old Ed warned.

This piece is was originally posted on a social media site back in 2019 using the OED’s word of the day, pussivanting. Only very light editing has been done for reposting here (title, pub name, paragraph breaks).

Through the wood.

©2022 Michael Raven

The moon casts cool light to etch colder shadows as stars rain across the canopy of sky. I could enjoy the view at any other time, but I find myself drawn along the path, the scent of apple cloying and pulling me along the narrow path leading away from the water’s edge. A flutter of wings, invisible in the night forest beat at the air around me and I feel talons finding purchase on my right shoulder. The weight is insubstantial, almost too light, and soon it is gone.

“I surprised,” I say. “I expected someone else before I suspected you might arrive.”

A snort of derision.

Continue reading “Through the wood.”

gloamfell; shard 3.00 posted

©2022 Michael Raven

In which Winter gets an offer of assistance, laughs until she almost pukes, and we meet an unreliable future companion.

Actually, it may not be complete. It is shard 3.00-3.11. I’ll probably add more to this shard before creating a new one.

If you want to read my serial storytelling experiment, head on over to the newest installments:

gloamfell; shard 3.00

or start at the beginning:

gloamfell; shard 1.00

If you really have an urge to do something equally silly or just plain participate, ask Anne for permission to join at:


twitter fiction || gloamfell

©2022 Michael Raven

I gave a short background yesterday as to this thing I have going on in the Twitterverse. I’m actually surprised at how something about the finality of each post has actually been somewhat inspiring instead of feeling defeating.

If you’re unfamiliar with the platform, the idea is that each tweet (post) can be up to 280 characters long (including spaces). No edits unless you pay for the privilege, so once it is written, your only option is to delete, which doesn’t work real well later on in the thread. It breaks the chain, so to speak.

Continue reading “twitter fiction || gloamfell”

twitter crosspost || 24may22 [part II]

©2022 Michael Raven

I was continuing to feel inspired, so I added a bit more to the story with Winter. I’m not gonna post the whole additional thread, but another nine fragments added to the original starting with the two below. Follow the tweet link for the rest. It’s probably dreck, so click with care and watch your step.

twitter crosspost || 24may22

©2022 Michael Raven

A bit of something for a new Twitter community Anne Morrigan started. Don’t know if my poor effort will end up being anything, but I’m always good for falling on my face in front of a crowd (no liquor required!). First five to start off. Let’s see if twit-lit will be my thing.

Some 1250 characters after the jump…

Continue reading “twitter crosspost || 24may22”

twitter crosspost || 20may22




twitter crosspost || 19may22