Rowan Finley

Joined February 2019

1203 stories

Bio

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

Stories (1203)

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Berganashio - Chapter 24
Queen Finyellë yelled. “Do not panic!” It was too late. After the avalanche of rocks had enclosed the fairy villagers, the caverns of Mem echoed with wails of their hysteria.
By Rowan Finley 2 months ago in Fiction
Berganashio - Chapter 23
Larkin was restless. He tossed and turned in his bed. Cotton and Bry had both fallen asleep very quickly. Bry had grown very accustomed to snuggling up close to Cotton’s woolly albino fur. Indeed, it felt as an extravagant blanket. Cotton felt calmer than he’d ever felt in the last several days in the presence of the merfarie children.
By Rowan Finley 2 months ago in Fiction
Berganashio - Chapter 22
Jovie had been flying above the three totters. Her eyes scanned the layers of rocks. The four of them had woken up early. They were in search of fresh water.
By Rowan Finley 2 months ago in Fiction
not capitalized
flower stems do backbends over my stretched-out-visage breeze rises goosebump mountains on my arms in the distance a monastery bell sends a soft alarm
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
Seasonal Longings
Winter, your thrill of chill is fun for a moment, but then I dream of summer’s saunter. Sipping lemonade, under palm tree shade,
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
Never Dissipate
I married a nightmare, she rode in, as toxic smog, that would never dissipate.
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
Photo Finish
"You don't wanna' fail do you?" The apprentice who was also called a Bug Boy asked the jockey. The jockey was about to mount his racehorse. The other jockeys were lining up. Their colorful jackets and caps appeared.
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Fiction
Cigarette Box Man
She spotted my high degree of vulnerability. I was as convenient compassion supply, picked up from 7-11. Bought quickly, with grimy cash that had rat-chewed corners.
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
You Tend the Soil of My Being . Top Story - December 2025.
Now, I’m seeing, that you tend the soil of my being. When all I see is dirt and dust, you see beauty, not rust. You are walking with me in the garden of purpose and good tidings,
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
Prayed for in a Movie Theater
The two warriors whispered and prayed in another tongue. Feeling the bending of my knees, I swayed down to the movie theater floor.
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
Passing Through
Lord, the world is shaking, trying to get an audience. Riots, hurricane, tsunamis, unrest, uncertainties, unbelief. Conspiracies, lies, ignorance.
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets
Her Miracle Question
What could she possibly mean? I don't understand what she truly desires. What is her miracle question? In a perfect world, that she'd find herself describing...
By Rowan Finley 3 months ago in Poets