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Immigrant Wonder Woman and the Broken Man3 Apr 2023Black Comedy
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A Boxer In the Dark of the Car13 Mar 2025Memory Scrawls
Head Six10 Dec 2025500 or Less
The Essence of Time19 May 2025500 or Less
The Hotel Room17 May 2025Creative Writing
The Crowns of Pluto (1.)10 Dec 2022Experimental
Nitram (A Movie I Watched)25 Jan 2023Commentary
Mr. Kringle-go-Round26 Jan 2023Fiction
A man with glasses and a beard is sitting in a chair, slightly tilting his head, with a patterned wall in the background.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aaron Echoes August is an independent writer focused on absurdist fiction, edgy philosophy, and cultural commentary. With a background in creative writing, art, and photography, he explores the stranger aspects of human behavior and its influence on the world. His narratives invite readers to question societal norms and delve into the bizarre intersections of reality and imagination, urging us to confront the absurdities of existence while searching for meaning amidst chaos. In his stories, the ordinary becomes extraordinary, revealing layers of complexity in mundane experiences.

The Apocalypse Pipe, Collected Works of Aaron Echoes August, is available now. More info HERE.

I’m excited to announce my book, The Apocalypse Pipe, will be promoted on Smashwords for half price as part of their End of Year Sale 2025 starting on December 8! Find it here: http://smashwords.com/sale

Category: Religion

  • Cold Horse

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    Dispatch from Idaho: There’s a horse who stands in a field out in the country by where I live. A place surrounded by fields of comatose sugar beets and hard earth; a permafrost, an Icelandic bandage holding back the blood, keeping check on the broken hearted, keeping them cold and unsafe when the locks break Read more

  • Weird 13

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    Nerves like cornsilk on fire A plume of atomic orange Flames of blueberry stroke A billion heads collapse and sleep Earth is a bed Towels are folded on shelves A long, lonely highway leads to beautiful isolation And good lonely, needed lonely Apricot orchards wear mind caps Black and white bat machines keep order with Read more

  • Red Toast

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    Red toast and tequila in a dust storm on the far reaches of some blown out city in the desolate west. Liplock, Tejas. The land of dirt and death. Treeless scrapes and scars. Pitchforks, boredom. Hot houses and hay fires. HP butterheads play Roman soldiers. The sun is relentless. The decay is precious and accepted. Read more

  • Evil Love

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    She could fill the entire house with crap, and I was expected to keep my mouth shut. That’s how it was back in the days of evil love. Junk mail would be piled to the moon. Boxes filled the floors to the point one would have to carefully dance around them to avoid tripping. Laundry Read more

  • Prayers and Chants

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    Organ dusters gathered in the church And some day that piece of paper Will be yellowed and fragile An atlas of Heaven Burned at the edges Cupped by a dais The stained-glass story looks on Colors like crayons They talk to each other They want to kill what is good And praise all that is Read more

  • Canned Rabbit Magic 6

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    “Why are we letting a small group of stupid ass morons decide how we live?” Serena asked as she walked outside with Reverend Savior. The sun was bright. The sky was endless blue. She stopped and spread her arms outward to the entire world. “It’s nothing but a society of brainless idiots out there.” The Read more

  • Canned Rabbit Magic 1

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    The strangest thing the Peppercorn family had there on the eating table was the canned rabbit. The label was pink and depicted a small cerulean-blue rabbit frolicking through a field of psychedelic Easter eggs from outer space. There were also two baskets filled to the brim with Easter eggs, colorful, impeccably decorated. It could easily Read more

  • Light To The Gray

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    Beehive morning Cold, gray, wet Remembering stars still spinning Dreams in deadlock I just can’t recall the colors or the shapes Somehow something about my mother again And her crucifixion for an innocent life Cold coffee on the desk Cold air through the window Cold skin Cold bones Wife sleeping in the background We churn Read more

  • Deities of Decision

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    A black building with windows of orange light played sentinel over a dark blue river at dusk in a city I did not know. It may have been Riga, Latvia or Baku, Azerbaijan or maybe even Milwaukee, Wisconsin. There were other buildings, old buildings of red and sand-colored brick defaced by time and the scourge Read more