Chisel, by Dan Mader (posted by permission)

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Chisel

He is a man conflicted. His clothes smell like oil and his nails are black. He reads poetry by candle light. He thinks of when she was near him. Hears her voice and starts – he is screaming inside. The restraints drive him to a frenzy. And so it goes.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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One Response to Chisel, by Dan Mader (posted by permission)

  1. erinsromance says:

    Coming back to Dan Mader is rather like returning to a recurring dream, one I cannot escape and one which haunts me even during my waking hours. The word I usually use to describe your work, Dan, is “bleak.” But that does not really capture the astounding depth of humanity you always manage to chisel out of the smallest piece of rock. Sometimes the chisel finds a vein of yielding softness. Other times, like here, it chips away all but the hardest core of one’s hidden fears.

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