Starlet
I am going to rot into this lawn chair. The sun is hitting me, blinding me. I have a feeling these sunglasses are fake, my eyes hurt. Am I hungover? Yes. Yes I am. Low rumble. In my head or chest? I want toast. When…
Fiction
A Investigation into the Strange Ikea Disappearances
They were children separated from mothers in the BRAVEN toilet plunger aisle. They were couples mid fight, storming off, then becoming lost in the twisting landscape of pseudo-Swedish-home decor. They were the confused husbands with lists of odd symbols getting PAX wardrobes muddled with HEX…
Camino Muerto
A sharp pain rings out from behind your right ear. Directions tilt. Your body stiffens; your pupils dilate. The pavement is speeding towards your eyes. Brace for impact. You are standing outside a bar. Your head feels clear. Free of memories and haze. Lonely, yet…