figments
My mother said the sky turned red just before I was born, that corn wasn’t always black and that people only died by accident. She told me that…
Cavehall was dark and sprawling, the blue buttons on its walls twinkling with mischief like stars, or, perhaps, the eyes of ghosts. They had been exploring it for…
The Universe is a drop of rain. I watch it slither down the windowpane, writhing and wriggling slowly. Little water people on the little water droplet shriek in…
Four-million, five hundred forty thousand, three hundred two. I think the scariest it got was right after I died. Don’t get me wrong, the moments right before were…
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