Short Story: Mama and the Thousand Wolves

Artwork from artist website:

Hey all,

I recently had a short story selected for publication in an experimental “ePub,” called Hybrid Beasts. (All you need to know about that is that it’s free.) You can read or download my story and five others onto your e-device here:


Let me know what you think! (It’s my stab at a fairy tale.)

Thanks for reading. You’re fabulous.

The Storyteller

I was not born in this town, but another far away. Across the world and with a name you would not be able to pronounce. You would misspell it and then you would forget. If I told you.

But—because, to be trusted, the storyteller must lay all his weakness and failure out—I could not in any case tell you the name of that town, because I do not remember. I, too, would say it wrongly, spell it clumsily, adding and subtracting letters like a desperate man.

If you insisted that I must know, that to you it is not important to write the name, only to hear it, to feel its strange and resistant shape against the fine auricle of your ear, I will redden and grow electrically still. Or slam my mug of beer onto the round table between us, making both our sets of teeth rattle. I might curse you, quietly. Certainly, I would not tell you the story.

“But why not?” you would protest, with innocent face of child, eyebrows raised and perfect skin alight with the justice of your fight.

I would say nothing. You can not understand what it means: that my town is nothing, a hole in the past, a dead end in history, while your town and its events are recorded permanently. Are certifiably real. Cannot disappear. Read More