Dan Ryoma
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To the MuggerA Poem by Dan RyomaYou came from the shadow of the red brick, Hands quivering from the weight of the pistol. My face the gun kissed, my fall hysteric. I bled as.. |
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AdsA Story by Dan RyomaKatherine’s watch read six o’ clock the moment it was crushed under the wheel of a white Ford truck. It was under this white truck where.. |
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PrologueA Chapter by Dan RyomaThe instant Margaret Horn’s two lower right ribs broke into six pieces it was a Thursday and she was eight years, two months, and four days old.. |
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1: Café PerduA Chapter by Dan RyomaForty minutes had passed since Margaret attempted to leave her white walled apartment without her brown leather purse in hand. For that forty minutes.. |
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Six and Three QuartersA Book by Dan Ryoma |
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Her Red TrenchA Story by Dan RyomaThe cafe was busy as John walked through its heavy wooden doors. He waltzed through the cloud of noise to a small round table for two in the back whe.. |
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Any Day NowA Story by Dan RyomaI took a break from pushing the lawn mower and stood in the freshly mowed grass to wipe the beads of sweat off of my forehead. I peered down to notic.. |
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Wet StoneA Story by Dan RyomaSurely enough the rain came pouring down on us, drowning her words and tears. Soon after, the angry look on her face drowned along with them. Her yel.. |
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The SatelliteA Story by Dan RyomaAs I opened the lecture hall door and walked into the cold morning air I listened intently to the reason why my friend had dressed so nicely. When I .. |
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On YellowA Story by Dan RyomaJeffrey could only hear the tapping of his shoes as he was leaving the lobby. The doors slid open with a quiet wooshing sound. The sun was beaming vi.. |
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