Bound Worlds

Here’s my offering for this week’s 100 Word Challenge with the word Books.


There are worlds

Hidden in plain sight

Among the pages

Between the covers

coated in dust

Lingering in back corners

out of the way stores of Books

just waiting

to be discovered



where anything

Becomes possible

Evolves into reality

where thoughts are Changed



into bigger

better things.

There are worlds

Far in the past

or Not Yet here

that are in

this world

or worlds

not yet found


for someone

to open the pages

set them free

to once again



where mountains soar

cities sprawl

entire civilizations

come and go

in one night.


Be sure to stop by Thin Spiral Notebook to check out other great responses to the prompt!

Book Release: The Weightless One

Changing up the pace a tiny bit here, I have a new release I want to share with you.  Anais Chartschenko tackles adolescent anorexia in her new release The Weightless One. 

theweightlessonecoverAvailable on Amazon now.

Here’s a quick preview:

Reasons I Have To Stay

I was signed in,
I have no choice.
They tell me
My heart is failing.
They tell me
When you starve
Long enough, your body
Starts to eat your muscles.
Your heart is a muscle. It becomes
Your unwilling dinner.
They show me charts with
Low iron, low this and low that.
They tell me I need to take this
But it doesn’t seem real.
All that is real is my sudden
Total lack of control, total
Forced surrender, it feels
So broken it can never be
I can’t agree to any of these
Things. Not even when I
Feel my heart forget a beat.
Not even when I’m hooked
To machines.

Reasons I Should Get To Leave

I don’t count calories.
I don’t weigh myself.
I don’t obsess over models.
I don’t exercise.
I don’t take laxatives or
I don’t make myself
Throw up.
I don’t care what you think.
I think for myself.
I’m not this, I still have
My period.

Little Fish

We lay in a tight row
Like sardines,
Wrapped tight in
Blankets and thick
Fuzzy pajamas
Getting our blood
Pressure checked
Lay down, and close
My eyes to the other
Girls’ gossip, they
Try to include me,
But I have nothing
To say in the morning
This is a strange torment,
Laying so close to the others
Trapped between laughter
And the talk of having to
Drink ensures or not,
Of having to go to an
Increased nutrition plan,
Of family therapy sessions
Coming at the end of the


Kara began
Pulling out
Her hair
Bundles of
Blonde lay
On the floor,
Her lion mane
Alopecia found
“I’m sick of
The lies!” She
Twisted her
Face up her
Hands knotted
In hair
“Where did this
Come from?
I didn’t grow it!”
We watched
In horror
We watched
Unable to
Look away
From her
Underneath she
Was so small
Like a fragile glass
Her features too
Large for her head
Her hair was only
A few inches long
Thin dirty dishwater
Blonde strands like
Weeds dried out
In the sun
She smiled
She laughed
She burrowed
Her face in
Borrowed hair

Anaïs Chartschenko hails from the Canadian wilderness. She has come to enjoy such modern things as electric tea kettles. Her published works include two collections of poetry, Bright Needles and The Whisper Collector as well as a novel in verse, The Weightless One.

She can be found on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Goodreads, Instagram, Amazon, and her own website.


I wrote this in response to a 100 Word Challenge from Thin Spiral Notebook, but did not get it posted in time to link up.  But, it was fun, so I’m throwing it up anyway.  The prompt was eyes.


I sit in the growing darkness, running low on batteries.  Who knows if the power grid will get fixed.  Hell, it’s been two weeks since I even saw another living human being.  Bodies galore, though.

Tonight, I have been caught out in the open.  The stupid truck ran out of gas on me.  Now I sit praying the feeble fire I have managed to coax into existence will keep the eyes at bay when the flashlight dies.  They come out of the night.  No one knows what they look like.  Attack survivors are non-existent.

Now I see them.  Staring.  Hungry.



Sneak Peek: Excerpt #1 from Nightmares

Hey, hey!  I haven’t forgotten to write, honest.  I’m currently working on a NaNo project.  It is book three in a series I want to focus on for a while and hopefully see published.  But, I thought I’d share one of my favorite scenes so far.  I know it still needs work, but I am trying hard not to go back and edit before I’m done with NaNo or I’ll never get the project finished.  So, here it is in the raw.

He left his jacket unzipped, allowing the grip of his blaster to flash just a little.  Grobish’s was not a nice place even under the best circumstances, and these were not the best of circumstances.  Not by a long shot.

Devin pushed his way through the dilapidated wooden door.  He thought it was the same one from when he had been here for Yordani’s downfall seven years ago.  The dingy, dim interior had not changed much, either.  Hazy blue smoke whirled and eddied around the room in a half-hearted response to the two ceiling fans spinning lazily.  One wobbled now because of two missing blades.

That’s new.  About the only thing that is in here.  Even Old Man Mac is still behind the bar.

            A new man popped up in Devin’s face from the table near the door.  Devin stopped.  His left hand drifted toward the small of his back where a blade lay hidden, and his right rested on the grip of his blaster.

“Your kind ain’t welcome in here.”

Devin quirked an eyebrow.  “Since when?  I suggest you back up out of my space before you regret it, young man.”

The kid snorted.  “Whatever, old man.  You UEG scum ain’t welcome in here.”

“You’re in luck then.  I ain’t UEG.  Leastwise, not anymore.”

“Whatever.  Get out.”

Devin took a step forward.  He loomed over the kid, who could not have been more than twenty standard years old.

“Listen and listen well.  You have no idea who you are messing with.  I will ask you one more time, politely, to get the hell out of my space before that fool mouth of yours gets you into more trouble than you know what to do with.”

“Jamie!”  Old Man Mac had taken notice of the disagreement.  “You let him in here and sit your fool ass down.  Don’t be messing with shit you know nothing about.”

“But, Uncle!”

“Boy.”  Only a fool could have missed the warning note in Old Man Mac’s voice.  “I won’t be responsible for what happens if you keep acting the fool.  Walk away while you still can.”

Jamie looked over his shoulder at Old Man Mac and back to Devin several times.  His brow furrowed and his mouth turned down in a tight-lipped frown.  Devin saw him clench and unclench his fists several times.  Then he deflated and stepped aside.

“Wise move,” Devin said as he headed for the bar.

Character Study – Off Script

One last character study before NaNo starts tomorrow!  Can I just say I am loving Devin right now?  Anyways, here’s one more little peek into his past thanks to the Master Class prompt over at Our Write Side.  We had a Halloween prompt this time.  Also, be warned, there is a little bit of vulgar language and implied/depicted violence in this particular bit of Devin’s story.


Devin watched the two soldiers enter the cemetery.  Green mist swirled around the life-size effigies to the Yordani dead, giving the whole dark, wet place a ghoulish graveyard look.  It was the perfect setting for what he intended to do.  These two were the culprits.  Such a heinous act demanded retribution.

“What the hell are we doing out here, Jones?”

“For the tenth time, Martinez, orders are to check for reported insurgents in the area.  What is so difficult about that?  Get it through your thick head, stop bitching, and do your job.”

“Damn place gives me the creeps.”

Devin smiled.  He was about to make their night a whole lot worse.  Replacing his helmet, Devin circled behind the two soldiers.  The flat black of his battle suit let him lurk behind them unseen.  Devin shook his head as he crept up within arm’s length of Martinez.  He tripped the flasher he left behind one effigy.

They all froze.  Jones signaled to Martinez to cover him as Jones headed off to check it out.  As soon as Jones passed behind a stone statue, Devin struck.  He kicked out one knee as he snaked one arm around Martinez’s throat.  Devin’s other hand covered Martinez’s mouth.  Martinez went rigid when he caught a glimpse of Devin’s helmet.


“There is no honor in what you have done,” Devin’s voice distorter created a harsh rasp in his normally smooth voice.

“But you’re on our side!”

“There is no side for what you have done.  Retribution must be paid.”

“It was nothing!  Jones started it!”

“You are guilty.  Jones is next.”


An hour later, Devin stood in his quarters and stripped his battle suit from his bruised body.  Jones fought more, but neither was a match for Devin.  Neither of them would harm anyone again.