Sunrise. The spacecraft landed on a sand dune. Ocean not far beyond. The pod door opened, and out stepped the … More
Tag: writer
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 … More
rat train
Onto the train. And here sat a horrible man. Filthy and probably dying. A horrible man, indeed. Let’s hope he … More
April seventh, twenty-fifteen, not thinking
Burying my thoughts and attention in my thoughts and attention. Buried by the sand.
seanpatrickwhiteley 