Drift
The city had forgotten what it was supposed to look like.
Speculative
True Dead
The ping came in the third hour of daywatch.
Elpis
A thousand years. Still going.
The Canvas
The rock cut through her gloves at the third handhold.
Thorn Apple
Ruthanne stopped apologizing years ago.
Deconstruction
The box says forty-two pieces. I’ve counted three times
The Last Mercy
Three flowers, a knife, and the burden of knowing what mercy costs.
Free-Fall Forward
She whispered it aloud. Her voice. Lower, gruffer.
The Acknowledgement
Between panes of glass, choice slips away.
Calum in the Forest
Every shot taken draws the forest closer.
Who Gardens the Gardeners?
It started as a joke, really. Betsy dared me.
For the Love of a Dragon
She’s a smoke show.