atlas

Everything aches. The arches of her feet, her shins, hamstrings, lower back, ribcage, throat, triceps, biceps, even her wrists. Muscles … More

on the Greyhound

The destination didn’t matter. The origin was hardly worth remembering. It was over, she decided. She was done. Onto the … More

in the evening

Collar popped, top two buttons undone, tie hanging loosely around his neck, Jeff poured a healthy dose of Johnny Walker … More

and when it broke

She needed time to heal, and so she created a shell. It was so comfortable, safe, that it became her … More