With his hands he traced the familiar shapes. Only a layer of paint more, only a shade brighter than the wall, they were barely noticeable.

It has gotten cold. It smells of snow. The street is filled with people.

Still water; stationary winds; a world unworlded and a storm unfolded. I didn't understand then. I don't understand now, either.

There was something strange about her. The busker frowned. She was somehow fuzzy around the edges. A faint black glow engulfed her.

I could not make a head or tail of it. Was that who I thought it was behind the door? And the guard, the rifle–was it not all symbolic?

“Believe.” That’s it. The word’s resonance paralyzed me; I couldn’t move and couldn’t understand a thing.

Thoughts about Lady History by a half-drunk warden in the park.

A hairy mass slams into my legs. George is desperately trying to get to Blubber. “That’s a violation!” I say.

“I told you I’d find you!” the hideous human-like creature said with his gruff voice.

I would like to tell you my story. It is a story of quietly observing in an ever-changing world. To understand, I am a table...

Reflections on growing up, home, love, insomnia, dreams and more - combining prose, poetry and illustrations.

“I was born 900 years ago,” the man continued. “I was present at the first Russian invasion of Constantinople..."

He pushed open the door just wide enough to slip through. The light outside was already beginning to fade; shadows crept out of the ground.

A brother and a sister and a silence that accompanies them since childhood. A silence that takes many forms and means many things.

“Follow me,” I said as I walked down the flight of stairs. Quickly, I approached my red bike. Squeaky, we called her.

“Dead bodies? Really?” He said and sighed, looking back into the trunk.

"Once upon a time, in another world, a world far from ours where equality reigned, justice and freedom, ..."

“A past so vast. A present unpleasant. A future full of fracture.” The voice was mine own. But those were not my words...

This wasn’t good. Not good at all. She had run off, it seemed, without even intending to do so. Again.

It was a strange day to begin with. There was a fissure which only he could see and black light was radiating from it.