Interdimensional Losers
On Sunday he comes to your door with a dead bat and marigolds in an old violin case. You groan inwardly (hasn’t he found a place to haunt yet?), but you can’t just leave him on the steps, can you?
A Bit of Neural Interference in the Collective Unconsciousness
On a windy autumn night of my childhood, I dreamed that a tall young man opened a door in a tree for me. A dim blue light enveloped the stairs that led down the tree trunk. Uncertain but unwilling to
The Jungle Devouring Itself
The jungle leaves its noise under layers of grimy stones and dead vines. Thick air muffles the insect wings, bird calls, and my footsteps. The parrots watch as I pick through the silent ruins. Occasionally I speak in desperation to
The Dream Highway
The dream highway ran the narrow strip between the surf and the forest, and we drove alongside a ditch with its invasion of elephantine, doe-eyed marine creatures. I forget the species’ name, but I saw the flicker of their forked
Cracks in the Sea Sky
When you’re shipwrecked and cannot die, the page of your book never turns. You live one endless day of saltwater, wind, and the veiny red behind closed eyelids. The water will not burn your tongue nor your guts, but neither