E.K. Daniels

Joined March 2021

210 stories

Bio

Writer, watercolorist, and regular at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Twitter @inkladen

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Stories (210)

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Oh Democracy, She Left Without Her Handbag
My date lit up and smoked her fag. She went to powder her nose, Oh, democracy? She left without her handbag. * I watched her stumble, lipstick staining her rags,
By E.K. Danielsabout a month ago in Poets
even the fleeting
a handful of warm soil, the last light sliding off a field, my father’s voice as he remembers something he once forgot.
By E.K. Daniels2 months ago in Poets
Fate Counts
The midnight lift dings, Sings songs of souls forgotten. Fate counts the seconds.
By E.K. Daniels3 months ago in Poets
Where?
Where is it we go, When the light leaves from our lips… A last breath or first?
By E.K. Daniels3 months ago in Poets
The Constitution
We are the people Witness to democracy, Watching it crumble.
By E.K. Daniels3 months ago in Poets
Waxing
In the dark, I found myself. In the mist, I lost my light In the sun, I thought I saw the truth, In the moon, I found disguise.
By E.K. Daniels3 months ago in Poets
Alchemy. Winner in The Sonnet of Shadows Challenge.
From murk and mired roots that once were drowned, Buds began to burst through muddied water. From darkest night, souls wand’ring, North Star found,
By E.K. Daniels3 months ago in Poets
Eternal Returning
The golden hour casts its hue of flaxen, Stems and buds, primrose, wake from their slumber. Flaming sun bows to the moonlight, waxen.
By E.K. Daniels3 months ago in Poets
i still believe in the poetry
in the garden, tomatoes have split their skins from growing too fast, red wounds gaping like mouths trying to tell me something
By E.K. Daniels4 months ago in Poets
The Vertigo of Being Alive
As gravity pulls the last leaves from October’s reluctant hands, I learn that time is not a river but a winged chariot on a carousel.
By E.K. Daniels4 months ago in Poets
The Weight of Invisible Things
Maya had been carrying the box for three weeks when her sister finally asked about it. “What’s in there?” Elena said, nodding toward the shoebox tucked under Maya’s arm as they walked through the hospital corridor. It was the same box Maya brought to every chemotherapy session, every doctor’s appointment, every sleepless night spent researching clinical trials at 3 AM.
By E.K. Daniels4 months ago in Fiction
Lettuce
the thing about wanting is how it sits in your mouth like a pill you can’t swallow i keep checking my phone as if someone might have texted
By E.K. Daniels4 months ago in Poets