Frame
Fettered in forethought, I await the inevitable, yet unapproaching. As the present rolls past my fixated gaze, I’m conscious only…
Posts (page 7)
A Reckoning
Tables and chairs. An exchange of distant stares. Coffee ring on spalted maple. Blood drawn by pierce of staple. Cold…
The Altered Man’s Journal, Pt. 1
A man ran the faucet and hair came out. It did not go down the drain like water would have.…
Symbiosis
Sunlight illuminated the heavy, metal box that encased his head. It’s January thirty-first, and Jane had been torturing him for…
The Fall of Schibley
Fundered and frilled, and after a strenuous day at the factory, Philip Ronald Schibley wearily returned, on foot, to his…
Pale Toes
In moments of silence I hear moans of madmen I look down at my pale toes. Six a.m. gray morning…