Monday, April 15, 2013

Matthew Wilson


Mom was ill. Dying.
So Alec headed toward the castle.
Many skulls said the sorcerer would
not sell his potions.

Alec thought this fair as he had no money.
He spat on his hands and climbed the ivy walls
toward the window at the tower's top,
sneezing on the smell of magic.

The old man woke and said the words
that turned Alec into a dog.
Fit punishment for a thief.
Laughing, the old sorcerer pulled a knife.

But now, Alec had his fangs.
The spell broke when he ripped out
the old sorcerer's throat,
and trying not to vomit, staggered home.

Deshant Paul reads "A Close Call":

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Matthew confesses: "Recently my mother caught a cold. An easy victory with modern medicine. I wondered what lengths men centuries ago went to find cures. Drama demanded something worse than a sniffle. My love of fantasy mixed its way in as I tried to find out."

MATTHEW WILSON, 29, is a U.K. resident who has been writing since small. Recently these stories have appeared in Beyond Centauri, Starline Poets Association and Carillon Magazine. He is currently editing his first novel.

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