Short Stories
North Bend, Washington
I had decided all I wanted was to die in a town where I wouldn’t be grieved...
Poetry
Sarasota Summers Soaked in Sucralose
They tell me to write about seasons, I suddenly loathe them and all their possessions...
The Angels Wouldn't Help You
The dream-like ether rests below and waits for a drop of soulful excretion...