Fire dances between her fingertips, lighting the darkened room. She breathes deeply. Another ice cube forms in her drink as she kisses me. She closes her emerald eyes, and focuses the flames in her hand. A deep breath, and then the bolt of fire flies around us, lighting each candle. She flicks her other hand. Ice and fire meet and vanish. Her eyes open.
Welcome friends,
You have stumbled upon the Ark of the Lost Angels, a little corner of the internet I’m carving out for myself. Here will live my thoughts on the world, entertainment, some of my creative writing and photography, and anything else I can torment my loyal viewers with. Hope you find something you like and choose to stick around!
Schedule:
Wednesdays
First and Third weeks of the month – creative writing pieces, usually short stories or poems.
Second and Fourth weeks of the month – articles about the world, politics, tech industry, history, entertainment, literary analysis, reviews, retrospectives, etc.
Ark of the Lost Angels 
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