atlas was here.
i’ve been getting into coffee again, says the one with the hollow bones,like i always do when the spirals behind my eyes start tightening again;if you look you’ll see it there, the end of the string that can be pulled out from the iris.the constriction is pleasant, head full of bees and old, old (now... Continue Reading →
if you ever want to look for me, i'm exactly where you think i am. the old house is exactly as you left it, if you look past the thin glassy dust that got left on the surface. if you're not afraid to stick your soft hand into the rotting cabinet you might still find... Continue Reading →
there are only two paths at the end of the garden. you know this, you've lived it these past eight years. and no matter how frozen the moss gets when you stop turning the sun on, there are still only two ways to leave this place. with your palms open in defeat or with your... Continue Reading →
there was a lot about that past life that you didn't understand. less still that you remember. it doesn't come back the way you think it would, either, all flashes and waves and big scenery. you rarely catch the bright pictures or shadows left behind in the mirrors. instead, it's all ripples. they spread outward... Continue Reading →
it's looking cold more than it’s feeling cold, these days. forget free-form writing, forget talking and thinking, all i have is moving with your eyes closed and tearing things open with your teeth. and the flashbacks, i guess, but that’s a whole other thing. it was fun though, wasn’t it? yes. it was. you know... Continue Reading →
Leif Irlin wasn’t a miserable man by any stretch of the imagination. Being the gatekeeper wasn’t hard, really, was it, it just required some standing and thinking. Both of which he was perfectly equipped to do. He was tall, handsome by anyone’s standards, his black hair was spiky no matter what he did to it,... Continue Reading →
Soft as a thistle in the field near the town, wiry as the fences wrapped around it, was Loritz the scarecrow, Loritz the has-been and never was, a waif and a stray and most damning of all, entirely unemployed. He was there in the morning, laughing at the crows who wouldn’t have stopped to give... Continue Reading →
we can keep talking if i talk with my mouth closed, heart open, heart closed, endless cycle.whether my mistakes lead to the holes in your chest is one thing but magic was never my strong point, anyway. and you didn’t mind, so long as you could give the people what they came for. it finally... Continue Reading →
being selfish is not the fatal flaw you once thought it was. it was worse. the room is too wide for you, too wide for anyone else to fit inside and make a nest with three little baby blue eggs. it’s humid. it could be dusty. the room isn’t held up by twigs from all... Continue Reading →
hello, i said, i think i’m bleeding againyou take me out past the park and we sit by the river.i am bleeding, we both agree. crimson drops on his old sweater that i wanted to chuck out, but didn’tand i tell you about her, curly hair, eyes like the sunand i mention the new him,... Continue Reading →
we’re flying through the town on a wire, feet dragging across the stone paths. you’re lying stomach down on a pond in autumn, green water soaking through your t-shirt, eyes wide open and lungs filling with something or other. it’s a midnight chorus, baby, can’t you hear the birds from down there? can’t you sing... Continue Reading →
I’m a tiny child in a tiny town.My soles flatten grass and strawSharp enough to leave lines on my skin.Wide eyes drink at the red on the floor;Red like soup, something I could drink in the winter.Soaking into the gaps of the tiles.Arms like birch trees hauling sticks to the fire,Peeling off my own skin... Continue Reading →
we start this story by ignoring the plum ripe bruises in the courtyard and carefully planting the missing teeth in the warm soil. the sun is shining, somewhere, but not on the wasted ghosts of this town. each one will kiss you as you pass them by. you never have to ask. other customs include... Continue Reading →
Grace was ill her whole life. She was a woman that was small, slight like a bird, who walked softly and made the whole room seem silver. She was never older than twenty-four. Alistair was a man already on his way to greatness, with red cheeks and dark stubble, and people flocked to him every... Continue Reading →
Unlike the many, many tales of this sort, this is not a ghost story. No. Reece was very much alive. But looking back on it now, the elements are much the same. Oscar Barnlow, unlike some other people I could mention, was not particularly a gothic hero. He wasn’t sent to the town of Hereden to... Continue Reading →
Altern House 