My Writing Portfolio

You are reading reading through my collection of short stories and poetry. No portions of this content may be used or published elsewhere, in print or digitally, without without my express permission.

© I. A. Phillips


The red gleams in the moonlight.

In lines of two they march.

Slowly, meticulously, silently they had prepared.

Now is the time.

This fly feast is transitioning.

They aren't the only ones who smell dinner.

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