The Thirsty Horse



I led a thirsty horse to an empty trough
in a town without a name. 
Wrapped the horse’s lead around a wooden pole
then stepped into the saloon.
Cobwebs and poker chips littered the room.
Overturned chairs and a broken piano left nothing for the imagination. 
Just another abandoned town with no story to tell.

I step behind the bar.
Old shelves that once supported society’s interests
now coated with distorting dust and disparity.
I spit to the floor adding my own interest
and reach for a bottle that sits on the shelf.
Labelled Inspiration it’s as empty as the trough outside.
Discarding the bottle I reach for another labelled Motivation.
It too is empty and no longer of use.
The bottle labelled Creativity I threw out the window.
It’s as empty as everything else in this town.
The one bottle I couldn’t find was Etc. 
Either it wasn’t delivered, or it was stolen.

The six-shooter strapped to my waist
Held only empty shells.
For six nights I shot at the moon 
as its reflection luminated the desert floor.
Never missing my target I put six new holes in it.
But now I’m out of bullets.

It’s wintertime in the desert
I taste the dust in the air
fragmented particles falling towards the ground
each claimed by gravity
will find death before the coming of dawn.  

My time in the saloon is done.
Nothing more to find here.
The dust that accumulates on my hat
shall be swept away as I cross the desert
in search of Etc. 
and a trough full of water. 


Edited with the assistance of Marie Metaphor Specht.
Image: Pure White Horse from FreePixel.com


#Apocalypse #Apocalyptic #Canada #Canadianpoet #Death #Dreams #Horse #Inspiration #Oldsaloon #Poetry #Saloon

The Greenland Diaries: Day 57

Last night, behind the Drum and all the hidden monsters, I heard a car driving around the neighborhood. Strangely enough, the acceleration was constant and uninterrupted. In the past, when I’ve eavesdropped on nightmares, any vehicle brave enough to travel the darkness gets thrashed immediately upon its discovery. Cars have only gotten past their motors ignition before screams and claws silence their engines. I would never be stupid enough to drive around while the Drum beats. The car last night though, it kept on driving without being bothered by them. I even heard a slight melody of music inside the Drum and engine. It sounded like Mozart, or Beethoven.

I finally shaved this morning. It was a very painful experience. I had some spare razors to take off the stubble, and I had my scissors to cut off the larger strands on my chin. Shaving without a mirror was the challenging part. I tried to use a shard of broken bathroom mirror for a few minutes, but the reflection became clouded with those gray figures from before. Eventually, the  piece was thick with them, and I was better off shaving blind. I made sure to expose myself to the reflection a block away from the house, just in case.

I’m not sure how many times I cut my face, but it certainly hurt a lot. I’m worried about disease and open wounds with this humid and heavy air. I’m also concerned about the lake water I used for shaving, but I can only be afraid of so many things. It’s a blessing in disguise that the monsters never left any full bodies from the slaughter at the beginning. The streets would be swimming with disease. After I finished shaving, I washed my face in after-shave and then sterilized. I cried a little bit from it. I’ll have to shave more often to get my skin used to the sensation. Snowy licked my face a few times after I recovered. The salt from her tongue stung my face, but I didn’t care.

It feels good to have her concerned about me.

Yesterday, when I walked home, there were angry lines of storms on the horizon. They vanished overnight, like some invisible hand shook them into dust. We need water. We need a break from the stinking sun and breathing plants. I’ve got supplies, but paranoia still creeps into my thoughts about us running out.

I should start a paranoia list, Gerald, Snowy, supplies, the Drum, monsters, stray dogs, reflections, and possible marauders. Looking at the collection of horrors doesn’t make me too depressed. It makes me feel strangely organized.

Today, we walked back to Rainbow foods. It looked like nothing had moved on the inside of the entrance. I want to go inside the building and explore, despite the sour smell of rotted food. I’m a little concerned about the darkness and being able to see inside the building. There could be a few monsters lurking inside the aisles like when we explored the hospital. I found some flares after the counterattack, so I could try throwing a few in there for light. I have a flare gun too, which would probably be safer.

I’ve started to read The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien. I’m enjoying the book so far. I’m sure in all actuality, Tolkien would never have had the guile to take the trip like Bilbo did or jump all over an adventure. Traveling through this sweeping fantasy epic might be difficult, but it pales in comparison to what I’m going through. I’d take a dragon, goblins, and trolls over the nightly drum and unidentifiable devils. Why did our culture trivialize hardship? Why did we think this would be fun?

I wonder what strange things will be out wandering the night. I’m pretty sure I was dreaming when I noticed the family a few nights ago. The car from last night was real. I know it.

#apocalyptic #books #fiction #horror #journals #monsters #novels #reading #writing

I love when the illusions enter the story in full force. Creating this creepy plot device was tons of fun. Enjoy. The story only gets better, along with the monsters.

#writing #reading #fiction #books #horror #apocalyptic #journal #monsters #novels

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/05/11/the-greenland-diaries-day-57/

The Greenland Diaries: Day 57

Last night, behind the Drum and all the hidden monsters, I heard a car driving around the neighborhood. Strangely enough, the acceleration was constant and uninterrupted. In the past, when I’…

Patrick W. Marsh
TEOTWAWKI Scenarios for Speculative Writers

The Fragility of Everything Familiar.

Medium

The Greenland Diaries: Day 56

Today, Snowy and I left our neighborhood. We walked past Rainbow Foods and onto the sidewalks near the lake. A brown sign, completely crisscrossed with vines, had the name “Crystal Lake.” I’m glad I know the name. Not knowing the name of any of the places around me makes this new world feel even more foreign to me.

Why don’t I know anything?

The buildings outside my neighborhood have also been sucked up by the green vacuum. Luckily, they’re bigger and more rounded, the vines and ivy have a harder time conquering the lengthy concrete. It’s nice to see these businesses and their names peering through the rising jungle. Wally’s Carpet Cleaners, the Terrace Theater, Dots, and the New Shanghai Bistro all gleam along the brown strip mall attached to Rainbow Foods. The glass outside each store has been shattered. It looks like someone looted Dots, judging by the trails of weathered clothes outside its doors.

What a strange compulsion for fashion in this new apocalyptic setting.

I was worried there’d be more stray dogs wandering about these untraveled roads. I’ve rigged up an extended leash on my belt, just below my Kevlar vest. Snowy can roam exactly 15 feet in any direction. Before, I’d let her off the leash, but since we’re exploring new territory, I don’t want her distracted or vulnerable. I carried my M16 with me, and on my back, I strapped my 22 Gauge from before. I still think I’m calling it the wrong name, but there is no one around to correct me. I cut the barrel down to a shorter stub. I noticed the last time I battled with one of these faceless monsters the shotgun’s nozzle got caught on the items surrounding me. That won’t be a problem now.

Whenever I would drive by Crystal Lake on 81, the water would look cloudy and dank, with a pinkish chemical tint hanging on its surface. Now the lake has a clear edge and center to it, like I can see completely into it from any angle of the forested shore. The plants have invaded the lake from the banks on down. They’re cleaning the water out, making it more inhabitable.

I filled a couple of gallon jugs with water and tied them to the bottom of my backpack. The extra weight feels annoying, but it’s not unbearable. I need water to shave my face. If I had to drink the lake water, I would, but my supplies are still strong and hidden. My appetite has become based on energy and not taste. It’s consumption and not quality.

At the center of the lake, or at least further out from the shore, I noticed a strange formation beneath the water. It looked like someone had cut a bubble in half, and that perfect rounded piece was glued to the green depths. There are carvings along it, strange twists of clawed figures and fire. In the center of the orb curls is a sideways lip. I wonder if it will open.

I know it must be related to the Drum and the beasts.

On my way back home, I walked behind Rainbow Foods. I figured if there were people still hiding there, I’d either see them, or they’d see me. A hill crawls up behind the building. I walked up it slowly, trying to peer in the sandbagged entrance of the grocery store. Nothing moved, only a few bits of plastic hanging off the sandbags billowed in the wind. I could smell a stale and salty odor of oxidizing food. Nothing could be living in there around that aroma. It made your eyes tear up from just a few hundred feet away.

I wonder if the monsters found them, or if they got in a firefight with some other irritable survivors. I memorized the pattern of sandbags and vines around the sliding doors. I’ll check it out in a few days, and if nothing else moves outside of it, I’ll explore it.

On our walk back home, there were some wall clouds on the blue horizon. 

Please, let it rain

#apocalyptic #books #fiction #horror #journals #monsters #novels #reading #writing

Happy Monday! Again, new entries every week from my apocalyptic horror series the Greenland Diaries. Enjoy the monsters. They're everything to the story in so many ways.

#writing #reading #fiction #books #horror #apocalyptic #journal #monsters #novels

https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/05/04/the-greenland-diaries-day-56/

The Greenland Diaries: Day 56

Today, Snowy and I left our neighborhood. We walked past Rainbow Foods and onto the sidewalks near the lake. A brown sign, completely crisscrossed with vines, had the name “Crystal Lake.” I’m glad …

Patrick W. Marsh

[Illust Greyscale]

'Bomb'
This drawing is quite old.

K8

#art #mastoart #fediart #mangaart #apocalyptic #darkart #horror

and of course for #bandcampfriday my latest album kind of #apocalyptic #folk, #wyrdfolk, #art rock album: Modernity Dying

https://grahamjanz.bandcamp.com/album/modernity-dying

modernity dying, by Graham Janz

9 track album

Graham Janz
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