Dead Letter Office
Posted inSupernatural

Dead Letter Office

Memory is like a moth. It flutters. It drifts. It finds an abandoned wardrobe of precious clothes to nest and gorges itself, leaving behind the gift of dust and scraps.…
wp ask the angel
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories

Ask the Angel

“Ask the angel.” That’s exactly what Nina did. Her companion’s expression didn’t change from where he towered over her abuela’s grave—he stared stony and gray, with the chiselled edges of…
What Remains
Posted inCreative Hall

What Remains

The pigeon still watched him, that blasted thing. It cooed like a rat, snow white wings fanning out against the dilate horizon. He’s reminded of something sinister, unnamed and hungry. …
Posted inCourage Creative Hall Health

Blackbird Roost

The tap dripped. The walls shuffled. Thin and reedy, cement and dust flaked like grey snow with every elicited movement. The rats scrabbled and clawed in the distance, a writhing…
Damnatio Memoriae
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories

Damnatio Memoriae

Here’s the thing: The world isn’t fair. It’s goddamn adversarial, if you stop and think about it. Loud and messy and it rankles like sandpaper sliding across bare skin, grinding…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories

Love, a Witness

The Lyra was at the corner of 52nd street– a brownstone nook that sat in front of a sprawling park tapestry. The intersection coughed up plumes of exhaust and hardened…
Posted inShort Stories Uncategorized

Yarrow Fields

Ask, and the general consensus would be that no one had time for any nonsense or daydream while the insidious sun still scorched the last frontier of the great west.…