There was a time I was incredibly active on Twitter (I will never call it X), but I've outgrown the platform. The only purpose it serves now is to showcase writing by myself and others. Other than that, I'm not active here. Why share this? Because I needed a new pinned tweet!

When The Past Speaks In Symbols.In my dream, I harmed the ones I love. In waking life, I'm learning how to heal us all.

“Those idiot militias had come damn close to destroying the world, and the sooner they were wiped from the face of it, the better. I kept my captives covered, hoping they’d give me an excuse to make them suffer.” — J. Crispin-Ripley

“The leveling sort of urban middle classes became so irrationally fixated on fox hunting as a symbol of privilege that they even passed a law to stop it. This kind of tyranny by the majority has no place in any kind of democratic…” — Glenn M Stewart

“My sense of duty caught up with me on Tuesday morning, so I went to the island. The so-called cabin was a modest four-bedroom affair. The place was pristine; at a guess, a professional cleaning crew had been through. All that was…” — J. Crispin-Ripley

Returning To Love's Embrace.They say, ‘Third time’s the charm’, right? And sure… he was!.

“I guess that says it all, doesn’t it? Projection, blaming others when it is my own stuff that is the poison. I sure hope that I can rejoin the others. I hope they will want me back in their group.” — @rglongpre

“‘Raid hit the west airport. The gold’s compromised. Feds moved faster than we expected.’ A pause. ‘I don’t trust anyone right now. Bring her in. We’re locking things down.’” — Rayan Khan

“I did not expect so great a pleasure seeing you, of being fondled by you, dear, dear Emile. I trust before long to have a long, long interview with you. When next we meet, I won’t shy from your touch. Sweet one of my soul, my love, my…” — @SMRevolinski

Finding Joy In Simple Things.In the rearview mirror: Writing Week 33 of Twenty Twenty-Five.

“The hum of my phone wakes me from a dream, a memory of walking hand in hand with Aunt Christie on a path behind our house as she pointed out different flowers and trees surrounding us.” — Maisie Archer

“I watched Pete slide into the car, edging himself behind the wheel with a grunt, wondering if I should ask. Pete, a true party lover, would normally jump in the car like a kid, but he seemed preoccupied, not his usual I’m going to a party…” — @kezzamac

“For example, I used ‘here’ twice in my opening clause — which is bad — and I was too lazy to rewrite it, but you didn’t stop reading immediately, because you settle for slop. You have low standards, and that’s a good thing.” — @marshawritesit

“The faintest slivers of daylight filter through the barred windows, casting thin, broken lines across the cracked walls. The overhead bulbs remain lifeless, their silence a testament to the school’s failing power supply.” — Jason Tabrett

Discovering His Play Zone.Katie & Steve #25: Katie flinched, feeling the aftershocks of the whipping, a dull ache reverberating in her bruised bottom.

“This will give women the opportunity to share their thoughts, insights, and wisdom drawn from personal anytime life experiences — not just tales about their formative years.” — @more_matters

Coastal Clarity.A quiet rebellion: one trip, one woman, one journey back to herself.

“Ian and Tyler start a conversation about hiking, which they both seem to like, and talk about another double date involving the same. Felicity scrunches up her nose at the idea, making me smile.” — Maisie Archer

Red Vinyl and Harley Dust.One chance meeting on a desert road gave her something she thought she’d lost long ago — peace and belonging.

“The compartment Lucie had rented was a large one that must have set her back at least another five big bills. For her money, she didn’t want much value; she said all she wanted to do, for the time being, was watch.” — J. Crispin-Ripley

“When my horse came second and I went back to collect, I discovered I had a win-only ticket. I took umbrage at this and insisted I had said ‘each-way’. The fellow pointed to some poxy tape recorder he had hanging on a stick. The…” — Glenn M Stewart