figments
one: nuclear war we seal ourselves in iron coffins deep below the earth and call ourselves lucky to not be the incinerated, the shelterless with their shadows…
i used to walk around my house and listen to the trains pass by, feel the tremors in my walls, mirrors shaking in the bathroom.
The angel lived on the seventh floor at the Embassy Suites off Route 81. Nobody knew exactly when it had moved in. Local legend said that it had…
Humanity came to this world long ago, driven from our home system by strife and interplanetary war. We came as a collective of geniuses, artisans, and tacticians without…
The zebras were milling about like sporadic, sparse pianos bereft of an owner. The absence of music, long left played if not absorbed into emptiness, precluded the need.…
Nothing left to load.