Wash Out

I can feel you blinding me.

Brilliant, bright light. White against my eyes. Draining the color from the world, eating away the perspective. It seeps, that fluorescence, dragging my vision out from behind my eyelids. Merciless, as you try to disarm me. As you try to cripple me. As you try to force me to yield.

As you force me to face the light.




You suck the color out of everything.

You know that, right?

It’s harrowing, what you do. Pointless.


I’d much rather have washed out colors than this. Rather have nothing—have total darkness, because at least darkness can have variation. At least you can adjust to darkness.

This complete white-out though…

It’s tasteless.

A dull, pale void.

Don’t you think?

I know why you do it.

To desensitize me.

At least, you try.

I think that, in the end, it does the exact opposite of what you intend it to do. Rather than let it wash over me—bleed me out, make me blinding as the sun, blinding as you are—I cling tighter to my shadows. Grip tightening around the dark.

When you combat me with that vivid, piercing light, I don’t give in. Not an inch.

I fight back. Continue reading “Wash Out”

Air Raid

I could hear the moaning outside. The tell-tale sign that something was happening. Growing in the dark of the night. A moaning that was not made by any person. I could hear it, the wolves howling into the night. Piercing through our houses, our homes. Warning us:

It comes.

It comes tonight.

Run, if you dare. Hide, if you can. Do what you must to survive.

They come.

They come tonight. Continue reading “Air Raid”

Zombies Everywhere!

When it started, it seemed like there was no end. No stopping it. No cure.

When it started, people were devastated. Lost. When the dead shuffled up to their door, into their houses, what could they do?

They started firing.

And I can’t blame them.

When they swarm, it’s hard not to shoot. Impossible to get away unscathed. Because, even though we know now that there’s a cure—a way out—it doesn’t change the fact that the unaffected are in danger. That we might become prey.

That we might just…

…lose our heads. Continue reading “Zombies Everywhere!”

From The Glass

I found a glass.

It looked like a tube. A spyglass that had lost most of its bulk. It was transparent, but the material inside was jagged. Edged. Sharp. If it broke, it would probably splinter, with the way it was bent inside. Twisted.


That’s what it did.

A spyglass that made things closer. That made them bigger. A spyglass that brought things to the forefront of your mind, by bringing it to the forefront of your eyes.

Warped interior and all.

I found a glass. Continue reading “From The Glass”

Wax Forest, The Fox, and Me

The door was closed.

The fox had the key.

A thief of nature. An ancient burglar. Quick-witted, swift. A natural in the forest.

The fox had the key.

In a forest filled with candles. Brightly lit against the dusk, the falling sky. They glowed gently, shimmered. Lit the fox’s eyes so I knew exactly what he was thinking.

It wasn’t good.

Continue reading “Wax Forest, The Fox, and Me”

Pray For Rain

There was no rain.

The cliffside was dreary as always. Dark. Menacing. Threatening rain, like it always did. Like I wanted it to.


There was no rain.

No rain to wash the dirt away. To take the stains.


Today of all days…

Continue reading “Pray For Rain”

Freedom For Space

If there was one thing Lone Island Correctional Facility taught me, it was this:


I won’t go into the details of how I ended up there, I’ll just tell you that they were bogus. My hands were completely clean, but I was mistaken for my brother, who’s hands are bloodier than a butcher’s on half off hamhock Friday’s.

But I digress.

I was imprisoned for a lot of things. In fact, the list was so long that I never got to read all of it. Which meant:

Sentencing was hell.


Lone Island Correctional Facility was the seventh circle. A desolate island on a desolate planet. Made to make inmates feel stranded. Like there was no escape. Like there was nothing they could do. Guards were gods, and the head of the facility was Zeus himself. Disobedience meant punishment.

And punishment.

And more punishment.

Stepping out of line meant not being seen for weeks. And not because you were in solitary. We all wished that was all it was. Solitary would be a great place. A reprieve.

But no.


In a place where even uttering the wrong response, or sneezing at the wrong time, could earn you a lobotomy, it was all you could feel.


The looming knowledge that you were alone. That no one and nothing could save you from the staff. From the facility. From the planet.

Hell was life, and that solid knowledge bred the feeling of helplessness.

But that’s the thing about Lone Island Correctional Facility. It’s all about suppression, all about powerlessness. About feeling like you can’t do anything.

So, what happens when you break free? When you find a way out?

Doesn’t that make you a god, too?


It just makes you human.

Because helplessness is just a state of mind.

Continue reading “Freedom For Space”


There are inevitable things in this world.

Sunlight. Day. Night. Rain. Air. Water.

Things that exist, and persist. Things that keep going, and that keep the world going. There are things that spin onward, regardless of our hand in them.

There are questions.

And there are answers.

But, occasionally…

There are questions without answers.

And that’s a big difference. Continue reading “Holes”


Sandhill cranes are seriously strange creatures. They’re freakishly tall, have extremely pointy beaks, and are lankier than a teenage Gumby.

But they’re also interesting.

Sure, they sound like velociraptors, and I’d never go near one, not even to save my own life, but they generally travel in pairs.

Honestly, it’s kind of cool to watch them walk around together. Keeping pace with one another. Taking off together.

Unless, of course, they’re heading toward you. Making angry raptor noises. Flapping their wings.

Then it’s kind of scary.

But I like their dedication. The way they look out for one another.

They don’t move on without their pair.

And that’s something I can wrap my head around. Continue reading “Spin”

Heart of Bramble


They rush up from the ground, soaring to new heights. They claw their way into the sky, marring the ground that they leave behind. Thick thorns protrude from the surface, thousands of teeth. Enough to make a shark jealous. The dark roots rise up, and up, and up.

I am surrounded by thorns.

I stand amongst them all. Stand in the center of this maze of pain. This dark, angry mess. I stand in the center, arms and legs and face still bleeding.

But it’s okay.

It’s okay.

Because here, now, with these brambles, it’ll be okay.

I’ll be safe.

I’m safe.

And no one can destroy that.

…right? Continue reading “Heart of Bramble”