And this is how it starts.   You are reading a page I once wrote  about a paper game (of consequences) in which my friend met god on the couch of eternity— and he turned to her and said    Hey you wanna get out of here and see the world? before leaning back and ...

In a dark, dark corner of a dark, dark lair  behind a dark, dark door down some dark, dark stairs  sits a pale and handsome woman with some dark, dark hair…   ‘Good evening,’ she purrs as you pull up a chair  ‘Can I be of help in my humble abode? Are you scared? Are ...

You open your eyes. Oh! You must have drifted off. You look around, slightly disoriented. The carriage rattles softly. Outside, there is only deep darkness. You are alone. Everyone else seems to have exited the train whilst you were asleep. You swipe a hand across your mouth and try to collect your thoughts. “Please Mind ...

You step into the old room. The air is full of mothballs and age. The lamps are yellowing and their shades are adorned with tassels. This room was grand once. But now the wallpaper peels away like sunburned skin, and the air sits heavy. Much remains undiscovered here. You mooch around knick-knacks and paddy whacks ...

Hello, Dear Reader. How funny – I am not sure what I want to say to you. But I know I want to say something… We’ve been on a crazy adventure, you and I. We’ve seen a lot of things.  I think I’ve grown attached to you, if I’m being honest. And why wouldn’t I ...

Goodness. Where were we? Ah yes – Bless You! Bagley pauses for a moment, suspends his pen – then, with the air of someone who chooses ignorance over inconvenience, he picks up a fresh piece of thick writing paper and begins a new letter. Bagley did not hear the sneeze. That is to say, he ...

It is a regular Thursday mid-morning. Bagley awakens from a half-remembered dream and blinks a sleepy hello to his cream ceiling. He watches a spider scuttle across its large expanse in fits and starts. He wonders, as badgers often do. Soon, wondering becomes wandering, and Bagley finds himself downstairs, alphabetizing biscuits. Now, dear reader, most ...

Good Morrow, Dear Reader! The Narrator here. Do you like stories? What about stories within stories? I do. I love them. In fact, I gobble them up like treacle tart on a rainy Tuesday, and sometimes I eat so many, they leak out of my ears, and tickle the ends of my whiskers. Oh yes ...

After everyone had blinked a couple times, Rilke imagined a mountain stream, fixated on the way the cold water splashed through the fine, sparkly gravel and sand that lay at the bottom of the bed, the sediment that had been carried on an extensive underground journey via subterranean crevasses and fissures in the bedrock. He ...

Signaling to nobody, Rilke turned onto the state route from the gravel access road he and Kyle had taken to reach their hiking trails in the Santa Cruz mountains. One minute, the highway sprawled out before him, plodding along through the California sunset, weaving in and out of hills, the way two-lane roads will when ...