Another one from the archives… The Carwash We turn and glide slowly to the entrance of the dark, wet tunnel. The sharks await us — oily, black, glinting eyes like sharks — primeval brains of devious skill. They glance at… Read More ›
writing
Original Poem: For My Mother
For My Mother When my mother dies, I feel that somehow, I’ll know exactly what to do. Not because she’s explained what her funeral must entail for the past seven years now, or because I attended my grandfather’s open –… Read More ›
