• Weekly Writing – December 31 2022

    I had to disable a dozen safety protocols to do it. Every one assumed there still had to be some better way. Every one of them told me my commanding officer would be informed of my decision to override the… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – December 24 2022

    Every week, I pick up three packs of bacon at Sandy’s Market. Sandy herself, still working the till, at least on Saturdays, makes some comment about how much I must like the stuff, to go through it so quickly. I… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – December 17 2022

    She ran when she could, like a dog in its traces. Pulling the cart on its wooden skis behind her for as long as her strength lasted, bursts of motivation and chilly white breath, until the snow rucked up ahead… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – December 11 2022

    I hope they don’t hate me. It would be fair if they did, but it would be an awful way to die, wouldn’t it? Hated by everyone around you. They say the defences are going to fall. Any day now.… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – December 3 2022

    No one wanted to talk. That was fair – who’d want to spend what could be their last night jawing with anyone in that room? Sullen mugs, eyes all staring at the next morning already. The ones with weapons to… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – November 26 2022

    It wasn’t anything special. Just another place where the world’s slow death had opened into a wound. Festering the way only brick and time could. The wall rippled and repeated, losing its pattern in the effort of trying to remember… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – November 19 2022

    The trains roar above and below. They never stop here. Never above and below, and never in the dark station where I am raising and dropping my knife, raising and dropping my knife, again and again into the bloody hollow… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – November 12 2022

    Some said it was bad luck that they were twins. Like it would have been less eerie, less a sign of bad things coming, to find just one child in the forest. Worst luck how they were found, curled together… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – November 5 2022

    It would be the last thing I ever did, probably, but I still want to ask her, sometimes. To give up running, go back, and look her in the eye. Do you love me? Can you love something that you… Continue reading

  • Weekly Writing – October 29 2022

    “I’m scared.” “Don’t be,” she told him, the tiny boy whose name she didn’t even know, and heard the words clumsy and insensitive and terribly adult from her own lips. Didn’t she remember what it was like to be a… Continue reading