Queridos
After eleven it is hard to tell who is more tired—I, or the night itself. Both of us sink to fill spaces forgotten in daylight, both...
Rebellion
The house was dark and still, and silent as a coffin. There would be no more laughter or play here now. The white bricks were stark as...
A Haunted House
I grew up in a haunted house. We would each hear thumping behind our headboards; my sister would sit up in bed laughing in a strange...
Sometimes
If I told you I was kind of psychic you might believe me, if you believe at all in psychics and since I would say “kinda” psychic then...
Back to Basics
I’m at this point as a writer where I don’t understand poetry anymore. I used to write just to write; to make images in my head become...
