S. Kay Nash

S. Kay Nash is a writer, artist, unapologetic nerd and bibliophile. During the day she is a professional business writer. After dark, weird things crawl out of her mind and find homes in her poetry and short fiction.

Published: 65 articles

Coyote and the Thing That Wouldn’t Die

S. Kay Nash 0 Comments

This started as a flash fiction writing exercise that I snagged from Chuck Wendig’s blog. I rolled up some random numbers and got two topics from his list of genre mash-up story-fodder. I got, “Mythology and Vampires.”  Now, lazyass gamer girl here had the story finished on time, but forgot to post it by the Friday deadline, so I’m not going to link back to his blog.  While I have no problem doing the walk of shame in a slinky party dress at 7:30 am on a Sunday, I’m not about to go flouncing my ass in front of people who can meet a deadline.

I polished it up a little this weekend, so here it is.

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Seduced by acceptance

S. Kay Nash 0 Comments

I said I was going to start collecting rejection letters, not acceptances. Apparently I have a bit of flash fiction appearing in an anthology coming out in January.

No, it’s not a paying market, but I wasn’t about to jump back into the deep end of the pool right away.  I also can’t let this go to my head; Read More →

Canyon Song

S. Kay Nash 0 Comments

 

I entered the silent depths

of this canyon, delicately shrouded

with the memories of my ancestors, dreaming

like spider webs in an empty house

where my soul had fled, dying

 

My breath the cadence of a desert wind

pulsing cold through the stone

carrying my song, flowing

from the smooth foundations of rock

an aching whisper, mourning

incomplete in its majesty

 

It stumbled and continued on

a heartbeat missed, a step not danced

her voice, a captivating cry from between

earth and sky, darkness and dawn

joined a divine symphony of stone

 

Rising so incredibly high, she sang

the pure euphony of the universal puzzle

falling into order, she whispered

secrets—intelligible things

and I followed her, knowing

in her mystery I would rediscover

that lost phrase of my existence

and live.

 

© S. Kay Nash 2012 All rights reserved.