Cassondra Windwalker

Cassondra Windwalker


Cassondra Windwalker grew up on plains and longed for mountains. Today she lives by the frozen sea. She earned a BA of Letters at the University of Oklahoma and pursued careers in bookselling and law enforcement before resigning her post to write full time.

A poet, essayist, and novelist, her short-form work has appeared in numerous literary journals and art books. Her full-length books of poetry and prose are available in bookstores and online. She welcomes conversations with readers through her social media platforms and in the occasional coffee shop.


Cassondra Windwalker @WindwalkerWrite

I can’t help perturbing my sister’s cat into a #maniac. No matter how she scolds me, I howl with laughter when the mad little thing wraps around my fist in a ball of teeth & claws.
Of course, Sissy doesn’t know that cat was once our dear [not-missed, not-departed] mother.

An old enemy comes to the fireside, offering a cuppa.


🏆 #HorrorPromptAwards #41

It's time! Gather 'round the pit and vote for this week's most terrifying tweet from the writers at @horrorprompt & @haikuprompt!

Pity is superiority pretending at virtue.

#Charity is love made visible.

The two ought not to be confused.


Firs painted with snow stand refuge to blizzard battered eagles.


She sat 2 rows ahead of me on the plane. Red eyeglasses, blue fingernails, pale pink ballet flats, & a huge black & orange Walt Disney World sweatshirt decked with ghosts.
She watched The Addams Family & Coraline.

I LIKE her so much.

What best friend did you not meet today?

A world traveler with a knack for many tongues, she rarely felt out of place anywhere. Without hesitation, she concluded she much preferred the mores of the old punk dive bar to those of church ladies at a potluck.


Tuesday begins with a round of #TrickyTues for everyone.
This weeks #WritingPrompt is:
Use the #WordoftheDay to steal the top spot from this weeks winner @DaveMclay.

#WritingCommunity #prompt #tuesday

viper hisses, twists
her arms coil around his neck
her kiss all venom

prompt: #viper

The swimming pool of the abandoned house had never been drained. Fallen leaves & willow branches floated on green scum. A dead pigeon lay tangled in the debris.
A little girl’s blonde head popped out of the water.
“Come swim with me!”
Water beetles swam in her eyes.

He opened the door and shuddered as a miasmic must gusted out. This house was the coffin of his father’s hopes. Worm-eaten, moth-dusted, mold-mottled - even the old straw-tick mattress was the domain of mice and shrews.


The latest episode of @TreesACrowdpod, with the effervescent @gillespieseyes, is out now.

We speak about art & prejudice, worth & value, nature & attentiveness, and much much more besides…

…moths get a mention too.

“There’s no #magic here,” said the old shopkeep, his quavering voice scarcely audible above the rattle of tires over cobblestones outside his open door. “Only dust and books.”

Then he winked.


Squirrels and rabbits raid a fallen eagles’ nest for homestuffs.


Colorado drought. This is the bed of a reservoir.


Perhaps I am only a dry brown leaf on a green limb, a-rattle in an icy wind. But if I can hold a space for a little ballerina ghost to rest her slipper now and then, then I am all the garden I dream of being.


Considering the last time I died
You’d think I’d be more careful
This may sound awful, but it’s a hobby of mine
Mauled by a bear?
Done it
Hit by a train?
Fallen down a mountain?
The rumors are true
Cyanide tastes like almonds
See ya tomorrow

Considering the last time I left a book half-read, I devoured my latest find down to the last syllable in one sitting.
It was a weird curse.
I couldn't resist opening a new tome, but if I dared leave it lie, its characters came to life in my own hours. #FromOneLine

Special, said his teacher. Stupid, said his dad. He tried to stay out of reach of both. Most days he spent under the back porch, with his little collection of clay&straw deities. When all the house went up in flames but the porch stood unscorched, it was a mystery.

gray squirrels hold hands
dead leaves skitter over stones
forest-folk ouija

prompt: #ouija