Rachel sat at her desk wondering when, exactly, her baby brother became something she didn't understand. Sometimes the disconnect was extraordinary, as if he'd slipped and let some part of that alien human loose in front of her. The result... Read more →


It started in Stamford and I do wish I had photographic evidence, if only to document the expansion. The Manga collection started early. If the kid had ten dollars, the kid had another book. In the Weston attic we left... Read more →


Circe did not die of anything other than a spiteful untruth which would have been unconscionable if Helios had any sort of scruples. However, drowning her in Lethe did nothing other than wipe the hard drive. The Circe encapsulated BIOS... Read more →


A face to shatter a mother's heart and most days fold her soul in half. I don't know what the world sees, but it can't possibly miss the vulnerability. That one moment in a series of photographs, the sort of... Read more →


There is a small stone house on the corner of Columbus and Saratoga, unoccupied so long neither Nina or April can remember when it wasn't just empty, sitting on the corner like that. Whoever owns it now has been trying... Read more →


The original timestamp on The Red Umbrella (and the light) is August 13, 2020 which has caused a dip into the well of cognitive dissonance this morning. The post was written forty-eight hours after I'd put my affairs in order... Read more →


Maybe it was the editor, I don't know. All writers have an identifying syntax, or voice, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much. Some voices announce themselves at the opening sentence; or at the very least, the first paragraph. The voices... Read more →