Deserts.

An organism stripped of its living skin, peeled down to the core and grit and a beating heart of wind and sand, sun and stars, the desert beckons to the ignorant and the romantic by fashioning itself a wasteland, providing a void for us to fill. Advertisements

Thoughtless ink.

And the ground is reaching for my feet, stretching up to kiss my soles with jagged stones and smooth sand. The gutters are coated with silt from the rain, and there’s dew and dust on the screens and the panes, and the heat this week has been branding the words you wrote into my back […]

Events.

The events that took place really could have happened in any old world, at any old time, and they elected to occur in one very similar to ours but slightly more fantastic. They could have chosen any place, and the town they selected was a small one packed with people in a dark and cold […]

Get to Know Me.

I am fond of diners where the waitstaff calls me “honey” nonchalantly, like those aunts of mine I see every few years who don’t remember all of their nieces’ names. I’m not much of a smoker, but I live in a house of whiskey drinkers. We may or may not be bad influences on each […]