My Stories
Previously published short fiction and the occasional previously unseen treat.
Undressed Wounds
At first, I thought it was a dead chick: one of those barely feathered near-foetuses you stumble across every now and then while out walking in the woods…
Today is Not
There are days when Abigail doesn’t think about them at all, the Luminissmus, days when windows are windows and bottles are bottles…
Nails Without Pictures
At first, Jack had been convinced the thing was some twisted little urchin’s idea of a toy. But then he’d cut open its belly and something like…
Everything But Wretchedness...
It was just the driving rain and the liquidity of the mud that made them look like a child’s footprints. Robert had no idea how long he had been following…