prose

Magic, or otherwise

I walked eight miles and didn’t see another soul. Another hundred and I’d cross the Oregon border. I got to the lake, cleared a ledge of snow off by a small stand of trees and pulled out my tent, moving fast to stake it out.

Reckoning

It is uncommon and natural at the same time. In that bleak no tomorrow of only today the rain returns with a familiar slap. The languid tones play out. Reckonings, a stutter-step forward like some dream we’re a part of,… Read More ›