Like in her nightmare. Like the coyotes from sleep. She had tripped over something. A rock, most likely. Fell on…
Sunshine, Sir
Sunrise. The spacecraft landed on a sand dune. Ocean not far beyond. The pod door opened, and out stepped the…
The Vicodin Man
At the dining room table, my brother apologized. He told me, “I’m sorry, man.” “It’s fine,” I said. “It’s just…
rat train
Onto the train. And here sat a horrible man. Filthy and probably dying. A horrible man, indeed. Let’s hope he…
April seventh, twenty-fifteen, not thinking
Burying my thoughts and attention in my thoughts and attention. Buried by the sand.
seanpatrickwhiteley 