ARCHIVE
FICTION
George's Diner
It made her feel watched in the best way. Not judged. Seen. Like someone had waited a very long time just to notice she was tired.
Nietzsche's Itch and the Diva's Fever
Modern hygiene doesn’t stand a chance in a place like this. I mean, that monkey up in the tree is literally scratching its ass right now. The other day, I saw one that had arranged a pile of grass and
Vast
I’ve been measuring time by rot.
You're Late
The message arrives at 11:34 p.m., the exact second my key scrapes the lock. No greeting, no preamble. Just an image, square-cropped, timestamped three minutes earlier.
No Mercy
The ferry from Karaköy to Üsküdar still costs next to nothing, still smells faintly of diesel and someone’s forgotten simit, still slices the Bosphorus like a dull knife through silk.
Quantum Regret
I stand on this balcony in Istanbul, Blue Mosque below me like a judge who’s already sentenced the sunset, Bosphorus sliding two ways at once, indifferent to my small drama. The text from her glows o
KFC Mashed Potatoes
I’m sitting at this folding table in the back of a warehouse that looks like it was built to store Lucky Luciano’s rum. They hung these fluorescent lights, ya know, the kind that make every shadow on the wall look like a pine beetle. It’s giving me the creeps, let me tell ya.
Model 7-B
All very tasteful, very avant-garde, very much against at least seventeen subsections of the Appearance of Natural Order Act.
The Veil
“Later, Dad,” he waved to the still figure in the otherwise empty room. “Thanks for the origin story. Kinda heavy, but... far out.”
Too Much Cheese
The bar in Papeete was the kind that time forgot. Dim amber light leaking from fixtures shaped like hibiscus blossoms, ceiling fans churning the same warm, boozy air since the nuclear atolls moment.
Venison
The fog in Hollywood Cemetery that February evening in 2017 draped itself over the James River like a gambler’s last bluff, as if the dead were exhaling into the Richmond night.
Unresolved Variable
Unresolved Variable
The Ferryman's Receipt
The Ferryman’s Receipt
Potato Bisque
So that is Victoria’s secret. She’s starving.
The Key of E
“Play it again, Sam,” she said, sliding onto the bench beside him, hip checking him half an inch left. “But skip the missing note. We’ll call it avant-garde.”
The Fig Tree - A Short Story
Milton Watson was scraping the last of his eggs when an aging pickup truck ambled into his driveway, dust rising like a restless ghost. The house was a quarter-mile from anybody, morning visitors were
Anastasia
I don't need to say a thing to dear Ms Counselor. You know what you did, you slutty little bad bad girl.
Five Cards Down
Not 24 hours after swearing I wouldn't do it, out pops a horror story. WTF is wrong with me?
The Bridge
You find yourself in a different timeline. One where you have died, and the world has moved on without you.
Promenade
Cindy Lou woke with a flicker of premonition nipping at her chest. Something unusual might happen today, she felt it. She shook it off with a stretch, dressed for the wind and sun, and headed to the m
Absolution
When he considered all of his paths to absolution, he took the long odds on the pretty one in the sky blue sundress.
Legend
Lane Connor stares at the screen, an immaculate reflection of his own glory staring back at him, neatly packaged in HD for millions to see. He’s fifty-one, though the chiseled features of his youth re
Oliver
Oliver walked the familiar path, one foot after the other, his pace slow and measured. It wasn’t the park that drew him out every afternoon, not the trees or the air or even the routine. It was her. S
Lemons
Manuel Munoz grew lemons, just like his father and his grandfather did. I mean, just like. Inconsistency causes chaotic flux, as any good lemon farmer will tell you. Manny lived with his wife, Frida,