Writing

Dry Dock

An odd time where my house hibernates next to my boyhood home. The driver’s side window staring down into the kitchen like the eye of a great leviathan peering into the past…

Always on the Move

We pulled into Lake Mead last week, our little oasis in the desert. Coming back, I realize how much I loved this place the first time. It’s enchanting. The landscape this unrefined, unfinished sandbox of the gods. Ancient and wrinkled and weathered, scarred with jagged valleys and craggy heights, the lake rests like a gem on a mummified neck uncovered in some primordial tomb…

More Bumps in the Road

My once established daily schedule just hit a few potholes. We’re fast approaching our departure from the ridiculously beautiful Oregon coast. Next week, I’ll need to be at the helm again setting off for parts unknown. Due to launch preparations… Read More ›

Could She Wear Their Skin

The station opened her eyes.

Machines whirred, the only sign of life in a still world. A beep filled the air like a delicate bell. It would sound again inside her for another summer, untended by her crew…

Alter Ego

Jackie asked to dye her hair orange during the summer of seventh grade. Her father stared, mouth half-open, eyes seeing through her for what seemed like a long time. But he finally agreed with a silent nod…

Aurora

An unwitting test subject sheds their skin to become their true self. Meet Aurora, superhuman, Augment, but no hero…