My writing makes me feel as if my soul is exposed. I’ve never been comfortable with that. I persist hoping the feeling will fade, but it never really does.
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Hearing Spirits ~ The Clairaudient Writer
“That’s not how my other patients describe the voices they hear,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s much different. In fact, I have never heard it described the way you just did.” “That’s good to know,” I replied, nodding my head with one quick, chin drop. He was an extraordinary psychiatrist. Usually, they Read more
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Beyond the Veil
The truth had long been concealed, Whispered a voice beyond the veil; In a grave manner she revealed, What had caused her heart to fail. She whispered of her sorrow, She’d been forced to confess a lie; Time no longer could she borrow, She had been condemned to die. Barefoot to the gallows she went, Read more
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Endlessness
There are pieces that I have written that seem to write themselves. There are pieces that even several years later, I remember where I was and how I felt when I wrote them. There are pieces that the narration and music for the audio recording hit the emotional mark of the piece perfectly. Endlessness is Read more
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Where Emptiness Meets Eternity ~ From Creepy AI Art to Spiritual Synchronicities
“Where emptiness meets eternity” is a line from my poem The Death of a Heart, from my first book. I don’t know where things I write come from. I am clairaudient and some sort of medium, so I hear (and see) spirits, (which I plan to blog about sometime) so I can’t say if it Read more
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Because ~ A Writer’s Rebel Soul
Sometimes trudging through my word doc files is a depressing state. Abandoned stories untold, the character’s corpses cluttering up the hard drive. I have been known to resurrect them, even years later. This usually happens after a visit to their perpetual state of limbo (their file) and I remember why I created them in the Read more
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Every-thing and No-thing ~ A Pensive Writer’s Experience of Non-duality
I sat on the edge of my pool, feet in the water, notebook on my lap, pen scratching in an attempt to write, yet my efforts were met by an invisible wall of profound stillness. After a few attempts, I put my pen aside. I took a deep breath and turned my focus to my Read more
Flash Fiction and Short Stories
© 2025 S.B. Lacroix
SB LACROIX 