Nobody will tell you, but life rarely unfurls in ideal arrangements. Most grow up with dreams like lights guiding towards a harbor. We think, If I️ can only arrive on shore, everything will be alright. How naive man is.

I️ was like you, once, full of visions and verve, confident that someone would discover my talents along the vissitudes of great men before me. I️ remember, as a boy, standing i...

Snow billowed down, hazing the multicolored lights that dazzled the busy sidewalk. My last minute shopping trip failed, not from a lack of ingenuity, but a lack of recipients. I️, always the lonely, only child, now caught in the all-too-lengthy dramas of long deceased parents and a hyper focus on career. Any chance to start a family of my own now faded like the summer sun in winter’s chill.

I️ pu...

Here she comes again, hawking her wares like a besmirched tinker-woman. My kindly, yet unfortunate, spindly, gargantuan, spider-legged mistress of the hall. Every motion jerked from each arthritic joint boils a steady concoction equal parts disgust and distaste. The words she squeals between her rotten teeth set afresh my darkest wish for claws to drag atop her skin.

I️ think she’s trying to act...

The truth is, I️ don’t always feel like writing. A word to summarize my life is: “inaction.” Most can relate, I️ think. Too many grand ideas float hopelessly in minds which never dared funnel them to a page. Such is far too often, my way too. Stories half-completed, sloppy poetry, and abandoned articles make my office appear more like an exploded Staples stationery aisle than a writer’s nook. But ...

In alleyway

Of blackened soot,

The peeling gray

Of smoggy hooks,

Unfurls a hell

Seldom in books,

Where in there dwells

Men long since took

By bended will,

And needle’s poke,

Or broken brains,

Or combat boot,

Here lays dear mom,

Asleep in box,

With night’s torment

Like tenterhooks,

Ne’er resolve

Men leave unshook,

Kindness need not

To such place look

For those who try

Leave it heartbroke,

‘Cause he...

Politics and religion are two things which never enter polite conversation. Unfortunately, they happen to be the two things I️ think about most. Therefore, I’ve found polite society neither suitable for me, nor I️ to it.

The troubling lump beneath the skin of this revelation is the tacit assumption impoliteness equates to rudeness. You may even quote the dictionary. To that I’d say the dictionarie...

“Honey, you haven’t met David yet, have you?”

Felicity looked away from the warm fire towards her husband’s voice. Ice suddenly gripped her veins.

Nate stood with his arm around his friend, the two laughing at a joke she could not hear.

She rose to her feet, though she didn’t know how. Her legs moved on their own. A hundred memories ricocheted inside her head at once:

The scent of bergamot on h...

The woman crawls in bed and begins to read. She ends each day like this, a welcome (albeit monotonous) nightly habit. Stories provide her with a way to escape, slinking away to far off places of mankind’s wildest imagination. But this time, something feels off. She decides to pull out her phone instead.

She scrolls through line after line, but nothing particularly grabs her attention. She sighs a...

I’ll admit it: I’m afraid of the dark.

Most grow out of it, but I️ never did.

It affects me more than you might think. Every room in my house needs its own nightlight. At my worst I️ just leave the overheads on. Fear manipulates every evening. My closest friends accept it, but they talk behind my back. Nightlife doesn’t exist. I️ don’t go barhopping, stick to matinees, or never take dates out for...

“How do you know the deceased?”

“Well, here’s the thing…”

I️ hesitate. My fingers fiddle the keys in my pocket.

“I️…um…I️ didn’t.”

He tilts his head to the side, not breaking eye contact.

“It’s hard to explain,” I️ try to smile, “work related, I️ guess you could say.”

He seems to relax.

“Oh! So a work acquaintance then?”

I️ nod in agreement, “Something like that.”

He glances around the ro...