These are stories from the quiet margins, between signal and static, memory and erosion. Lyrical, reflective, and quietly unsettling, this collection is less about answers and more about the questions we carry when the systems around us begin to fray.
The Rows He Left Behind
I found him at dawn, asleep beneath the old oak that marks the eastern edge of our property. Not sprawled or curled against the cold, but positioned like someone who’d chosen their spot with intention. His leather coat was too clean for a drifter, his boots caked with earth that wasn’t ours. Somewhere, days ago, […]
