“If you hear a plane, you come right back inside and draw the curtains. Got it?” Emily had always wondered what they looked like—planes. Were they like the small black birds that settled into the reaching arms of the strewn trees, and rustled the leaves like it was their own feathers, while they cawed at […]
The tin was American. Blue and red enamel chipped at the corners, the lid dented near the hinge. It fit neatly in the palm, and if you shook it, it made no sound. Inside was a square of folded cloth, with edges blackened with oil and the sweat of a dozen nights. Unwrap that, and […]
She asked me, with her doe eyes, to fetch her a glass of water. I squeezed her hand—of course I would! And sprung to my feet, so quickly in fact, my ears shrieked. I trusted the grout of the tiled floor to lead me to the counter, where a leather apron-ed fellow was already pouring […]
A reflection written to the brother who never lived — an elegy for the space between inheritance and identity, where grief becomes the shape of love.
A story of impending loss and surrendering your external heart to the ferryman of the ‘Next.’
A dark yet hopeful meditation on suffering, survival, and the complex relationship between body and mind, it ultimately reflects the silent contract we forge with life, no matter how painful the price.
One bright, perfect day, a love blossomed—now trapped, never having the chance to bloom. Time slips by, but the warmth of that moment lingers, forever sealed under the cold, slabbed fjord.
As snow blankets the world outside, a man surrenders to his roots.
A meditation on unearned sorrow, and a stoic’s breaking shell falling to his peer—like a glove.
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This usually takes some time, the wrapper is everywhere, ugh…
This usually takes some time, the wrapper is everywhere, ugh…
