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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In the Land of Milk and Honey
Cold toes hold hands beneath the covers as smoke furls in the furnace. Cavernous woes crevassed with caress, Redress wrongs done in the mind’s fiction.
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Poets
Mission Unknown
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. This would be unfortunate for Turing, but thankfully, he didn’t know as much yet. Or if he did know, he didn’t seem to care. He was delightfully unaware of his future existential predicament, and for the moment was preoccupied with a speck of dust on the floor that was disrupting the symmetry on the rug beneath his feet.
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Fiction
Destiny: Planet Nine
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I'm not sure this is where I am, but my intuition circuits suggest as much...
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Fiction
Caesarean
It was Caesarean. Fitting. Twenty-three stabs to the skin for undermining the body politic. Translucent skin like paper tigers.
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Poets
Your eyes, like marcona almonds
Your eyes, like marcona almonds. A Spanish delicacy, Round and sweet, But could crumble like polvorónes. * I relish the honey-colored gaze from across the table.
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Poets
The Economy of the Body
This body is not my home. It is a barren husk. A field ravaged for its crops. * I did not ask for this: Full breasts and a cavern for plunder,
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Poets
Like a Phoenix From the Ashes
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window." I will never forget that night.
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Fiction
Teach a Woman to Fish
I should consider myself lucky. Some people grow up never knowing a parent, or both parents. Some still, end up getting to know only to have them unjustly ripped from their childlike hands many years too soon. I have two dads. Or had, anyway. I’m now back to the normal ‘one’. But things don’t, nor have they ever felt, normal. Like the half of U.S. households whose children witness the divorce of their parents, I am yet another statistic.
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Families
Gazpacho’s Sister Salmorejo Is the Quintessential Summer Dish
For everything there is a season, and to me, food is no different. Each winter conjures memories of rich soups, the fall, warm scents of cinnamon and nutmeg, and spring, the smells of freshly risen Easter bread. But summer has always been my favourite season for food. When I was younger, summer was heralded by the taste of water fresh from the garden hose, and sticky-sweet creamsicles—when I had the good fortune to scrounge up enough change from between the couch cushions.
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Feast
Corporatocracy
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There used to be hippies, by the droves. Now? Drones. But dragons? Not a one. Unless you counted ‘Puff’ among them. The times of Haight-Ashbury and turning on, tuning in, an dropping out were all but over. Well, mostly anyway. It seems those in Silicon Valley happened to like the latter. Who knew you could convince the most discriminating palette to eat mushrooms, even if they knew they were grown in cow dung?
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Fiction
Like A Grain of Sand Finding Its Ocean
Heart races, Tic-tocs quicken. Breathing shallows as I fall into the deep, Blue waters pooled on your face Flanked by the peninsula of your crooked nose.
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Poets
Like a Thief of Furtive Glances
From across the room I steal a peek at your face, Like a thief of furtive glances. I pick the locks on the corners of your mouth,
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Poets