Snowflake

Before the word snowflake became frozen in insult territory, compounded by the (shit)storms of 2017 and the year preceding, it was simply a word that, in my opinion, perfectly captured the wondrous, fleeting, festive time between Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year—my favorite holidays of the year. There’s something about this time, it has that special…Read more Snowflake

Awake and Dreaming in Berlin

A tall man sat cross-legged on the floor by the sliding doors of the Ring Bahn, the train that runs frenetic loops above the crowded heart of Berlin. He was not a young man, not quite middle-aged either. Heavily intoxicated, he was probably heading home after a long night partying along the Spree, or cruising…Read more Awake and Dreaming in Berlin

Sense of Fall

There is so much tragedy in the world. Though it has always been present, prevalent, stubbornly persistent, it seems alarmingly close now. Too close. For many of us in the west, the world seems to be edging closer to a deep, dark abyss—especially after the events of the past week, the month, the year. It…Read more Sense of Fall

For Now

It begins with a feeling, barely there. A song from a dream you can’t remember. It might just be the most beautiful song in the world, the way it strains your nerves with effort to recall. Once floating in waves of melody, bathed in golden light. Now adrift in fragments are the embers, unwilling to…Read more For Now

Strange New Worlds

“Science fiction makes me want to vomit,” my mother once said to me. I completely understood what she meant. Don’t get me wrong, the genre is one of my favorites. But for someone prone to motion sickness, a consummate landlubber—someone who loves the dirt, green, growing things, the sunlight, walking barefoot, the scent of water—the…Read more Strange New Worlds

Life After the Apocalypse

As soon as you set foot on the enormous airport runway, you will feel a strong wind. A wild, ceaseless wind that has nothing to buffer it, nothing to contain it. A wind that is both soothing and refreshing, the kind that clears your mind, reminds you of the ocean. Instead of deep blue water,…Read more Life After the Apocalypse

Sunbathed

The summer sun bathes all in a golden glow, a glow of burnished bronze before scorching. A little Icarus stands before me, sobbing over a red popsicle melting at his feet, feathers once floating in midair— for a moment all things were possible— now white down sticks to puddles of liquid wax. If you've read my…Read more Sunbathed