The Birth
By Nat Whilk ©2011 Glass Onion Productions The window was open and nothing was coming in. Laura moaned as she…
By Nat Whilk ©2011 Glass Onion Productions The window was open and nothing was coming in. Laura moaned as she…
He is a total wreck that needs to be reassembled screwed and bolted hammered and nailed polished and fueled in…
“My name doesn’t matter,” she says as you attempt conversation behind the buzzing of the cafe. She’ll stand in front…
You go to Office Depot or Staples one Saturday morning. You are well rested, invigorated for the words to flow…
Your dramatic siege set against the stark background of your past advances confronting the troops of time and there on…
I. How do we recognize another person? What makes them memorable to us? Do we base identification of that other…
This space, like a set of lungs, fills up with air, which spreads across the body like two warm…
Oh deserted desert highway nestled dark and dusty under new moon’s light! The game is up! Oh great,…
I confuse cigarettes with fireflies for every evening spent in search of you: the way they flicker is one and…
You might only be passing through but I live this twenty four seven and built it all from the…