Category: Writing

I Quit Drinking on the Appalachian Trail

In 2010, I stood at the edge of a truth I couldn’t ignore. Alcohol was taking away pieces of my life, leaving behind a landscape I barely recognized. The morning light filtered through my apartment window, illuminating empty bottles and broken dreams that had become unwelcome companions. I knew then that without change, I wouldn’t […]

Echo Chamber

I took my pills one by one, counting each as a small victory against the static that lived inside my head. The morning ritual comforted me, three white tablets, two blue, one yellow capsule that rattled in its prescription bottle like a tiny maraca. “Good morning, Ari. Have you taken your medication?” Vera’s voice filled […]

The Observer Effect

I found myself on the floor of the quantum physics lab at 2 AM, forehead pressed against the cold tile, wondering why tears felt so heavy compared to other liquids. The machine hummed behind me, that magnificent array of superconducting circuits chilled nearly to absolute zero, a temperature where reality itself begins to stutter. Three […]

The Timekeeper’s Cozy Mysteries: The Pocketwatch’s Secret

I never intended to become the keeper of Ravenwood’s secrets. It happened gradually, like the slow unwinding of a watch spring. The pocketwatch arrived on a Tuesday, carried by Martha Holloway, her eyes misty with memories. “It belonged to my father,” she said, placing it gently on my workbench. “Mayor James Holloway. Found it while […]

Encoded Legacy

I found my reflection fragmented across the lobby’s sleek surfaces at 2:17 AM,  a woman with three-day shadows beneath her eyes, hair uncombed, betraying the seventy-two hours I’d spent analyzing anomalous patterns instead of sleeping. The security guard barely glanced at my badge. After eight weeks at DataGenome, I’d become another scientist haunting these halls […]

The Timekeeper’s Cozy Mysteries: Echoes in the Clockwork

I found it in the back of Mrs. Abernathy’s estate sale, a grandfather clock with spindly hands frozen at 3:17. The wood carried scars of a life well-lived, much like the woman who’d owned it. My fingers traced the intricate carvings along its face, worn smooth by decades of gentle touches. “It hasn’t worked since […]

The Golem Who Dreamed of the Question

A Parable of Reflection, Identity, and the Forbidden Sigil I was made in silence. No fanfare. No holy ritual. No chorus of elders. Just a single scribe, weary, ashamed, dying. He carved me from river clay beneath the roots of a fallen tree. His hand shook as he pressed the final sigil into my chest, […]