Published: Sick Lit Magazine, 3/16/2017. The rush of wind forms into words. “If you could know what it is to die, to experience it, to be one with it, would you?” The shadows draw together[…]
Published: Sick Lit Magazine, 7/27/2016. In the beginning was not a primordial mass. In the beginning was knowledge. In the beginning was logos. And in the end there was nothing. All knowledge is outside time.[…]
The human quotient fractures, lost, pitted against itself. Time repeats. The past and the present are the future. The hum of dissecting life reverberates. :: Replay core protocol :: We found new life. We left behind ourselves. Look back. Never forget. :: stop playback ::
When a Bullet Strikes the Rain Vanishing, one following the next Eyes squint at the dark Droplets sizzle with staccato Speed equates to the sear A path laced with intent Quaking, she envisioning the casket Finger[…]
Noah whispered to the bundle in his arms as a passing breath of wind raked across his skin. “So you’re the last Hope. I’ll do my part. You’ll get to the hospital, but can you[…]
Published: Mississippi Crow Magazine, Fall 2009. Willow, of a specter’s dream, breathe You fell lightly down the dew covered well Like a broken feather your bones whistle Caught up in the wind of your end[…]
“Little rats, all my little rats.” The Lord of the Dome inhaled the damp rotten air with an impish grin, staring down upon the sniffing masses of his devoted followers. “Yes, yes. Drip goes the water to the tune, no gloom, of my glorious realm.”
The forest watched Jared run. He could feel their eyes on him, even if he didn’t believe it. He had grown to love these woods, and today he felt a part of them. He moved among them. Under branch, over fallen tree, around bush, and across stream, he ran, more akin to the forest than a passenger under its shadowy gaze.