The Woods – cereal after sex

Prince Hawkwind of Leafdom stood alone in his private garden. He looked down at the stone pathway. The spaces between… Read more.

The Sunday Architect

It’s silent among the weeds of the fan whir. The sun teeters on the edge of darkness. The growing, green… Read more.

Photos by Aaron Echoes August Took a late-night walk into the darkness and found the space egg. The birth of… Read more.

If only I could grab myself and hold the wounds together. The wolves watch with piercing eyes. I smell blood… Read more.

Sun on crinkled golden leaves The grass is lemon-yellow The sky is pure blue I can’t believe it is November… Read more.

It’s quiet in the house, save for the tea kettle steam engine puffing on the stovetop. The whistle now pierces… Read more.

When everything is fake like snakes And the lemons are made of wood And the faces are made of mud… Read more.

Harold jumped up and ran outside. The screen door slammed behind him as Bruce Springsteen music played from the clouds.… Read more.

Thirteen minutes to fill a capsized void. A laundry list of worry as the clock ticks in some kitchen bluebird… Read more.