Sai Marie Johnson
Bio
A multi-genre author, poet, creative&creator. Resident of Oregon; where the flora, fauna, action & adventure that bred the Pioneer Spirit inspire, "Tantalizing, titillating and temptingly twisted" tales.
Pronouns: she/her
Stories (198)
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The Ink of the Void
The rain in Glenhaven didn’t just fall; it wept. It was a thick, shimmering precipitation that tasted faintly of ozone and old regrets. I watched it from my office window, the neon sign of the Wyvern’s Tail Tavern across the street flickering in a rhythmic, sickly purple. Every time the light hit a puddle, it sent a ripple of violet through the grime of the street. It was the kind of city where even the puddles felt like they were hiding something.
By Sai Marie Johnson8 days ago in Chapters
The Inverse of 114
Phase I: The Initiation of Displacement The mechanism requires a displacement of 4.2 centimeters to initiate the stabilization cycle. At exactly 0600 hours, the primary drive weight, a lead cylinder weighing 140 kilograms, begins its descent within the stone shaft of the Highland Array. The friction of the braided steel cable against the iron pulley generates a frequency of 440 Hz. This sound vibrates through the mortar of the tower, shaking loose 0.4 grams of limestone dust which settles upon the primary brass gears.
By Sai Marie Johnson8 days ago in Chapters
The Color of Our Conscience
We've all surely heard this quote by now: "History does not repeat, but it rhymes with a haunting rhythm." For those of us who spent our youth submerged in the archives of the 1930s, studying the psychological fracturing of a dictator’s upbringing or reading the visceral, skeletal prose of Elie Wiesel’s "Night," the present moment does not feel like a surprise.
By Sai Marie Johnson8 days ago in Potent
Where the Pulse Ends
© 2026 Sai Marie Johnson The humidity in the city didn’t just hang; it leaned. It was a thick, stagnant soup of diesel exhaust, ozone, and the metallic tang of blood that drifted from the "Compliance Zones." Joe sat in his rusted sedan, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. He wasn't gripping it. He wasn't angry. Anger was a chemical spike, a biological inefficiency. Joe was simply... focused.
By Sai Marie Johnson17 days ago in History
A Mirror in the Mist
Renee Good reminds me of myself for a few reasons: a mother, a poet, and an activist with a hope that her words and witnessing could make a difference and shape awareness and intellectuality as she approached human-drenched topics like love, loss, life, and death, and the cycling through each of them. There is a specific kind of burden carried by those who feel the vibration of the world’s pain through the ink of their pens.
By Sai Marie Johnson21 days ago in Humans
The Legacy of Genocidal Maniacs and the Father of It All.
I posted a piece earlier today on Meta, and the engagement lent to the discussion of what Trump will be remembered for. I believe that the end will be less than what he conceived, but he will absolutely be remembered for something.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 months ago in History
All the Creatures A-Stirring
All the Creatures A-Stirring By Sai Marie Johnson Evangeline Rey Harbor, I thought it had a ring to it and so it became my nomme de plume. I’d been waiting for the better part of six months for the trip to Yule Write It. I just knew that this holiday retreat with fellow wordsmiths was going to kick me into a level of creativity that I’d been missing out on. Sure, I was driven – but I needed friends, and with a hopeful apprehension I decided to just go for it.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 months ago in Chapters
Devilish Behavior from a Disgusting ‘President’
A Stain on the Soul of Our Nation by Sai Marie Johnson We stand in the shadow of a tragedy so profound it rends the very fabric of our humanity. Rob Reiner and Michele Singer Reiner — two luminous souls who gave their lives to creativity, advocacy, and solidarity — are gone, slain in circumstances that demand universal mourning and compassion. Their legacy was joy, love, and justice. Their loss is immeasurable, and their absence leaves a void that cannot be filled.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 months ago in Humans
