poetry

Poem: At 3 a.m.

At 3 a.m. At 3 a.m., I am not alone in my room. Shadows from cars, or something more sinister, glide across my bedroom wall. Somewhere from deep within the house, a clock ticks, a slow, ominous, persistent sound, that warns me of time rolling on.   At 3 a.m., something screeches, a jarring sound… Continue reading Poem: At 3 a.m.

short stories

Inconvenient Teleportation

Inconvenient Teleportation It is August. You sit on the grass in your favorite park, the sun bearing down on your pale skin, but you are cold. You think you can see frost accumulating on your fingertips, the fine film cracking slightly as you flex your fingers. You are more curious over your current predicament than… Continue reading Inconvenient Teleportation