Tag Archives: writing

She left him in the morning, left him with a note, and walked out wearing his shirt. His tie was still left, draped over the bedpost, and that was the first thing that caught his eye in the morning. He … Continue reading →

Something’s wrong with my vision. I don’t think glasses will help. Do you see the little ones, creeping and crawling over edges and corners? Sliding down the slopes and nesting in the curves? Do you see them, writhing over one … Continue reading →

Take a picture of the sun; in the center of it, sometimes, if you’re careful, that’s where you’ll see it. A tiny black speck. In the heart of all the light. Antibright. It’s a shadow in the middle of the … Continue reading →

They called it Project Oxygen. It was meant to be something helpful, as progress always is. Make technology available, as prevalent as the air we breathe, the designers cried, dreaming of bathtubs that would never scald you, homes that could … Continue reading →

It reminds me of patchouli, this stink of dirt against my nose and mouth. It’s a wet, crawling smell that has laid a clutch of eggs on my tongue and left me birthing the taste of rot from between my … Continue reading →