When I was a young child they thought I was born blind or crazy. I cried and screamed almost endlessly. When I was old enough to walk I stumbled, put my hands over my eyes, and seemed to trip and fall over unseen obstacles. My misery, the visits to doctors, the many theories about […]

The Nixie Path

Fair proud a lad I was, and bold, so when our healer, Allonia, sent me to look for the royal’s berry, “Crimson the fruit, and set upon a throne of three leaves, no more and no less, green shot through with purple, like unto the robes of our fair Duke, who holds the throne […]


In a New York bar in the 1870s, a small man braves his worst fears to attempt an impossible rescue. […]

Meeting the Protagonist — This Story needs Fixing

It’s time to fix a story. Let’s look at this introductory chunk of a short story I wrote recently about a small man named Keg. […]

Pawn & Gun

A genial small-town pawn shop owner holds the threads of his customer’s lives. […]


Warehouse sketch

Mindy Dawson, a delivery truck driver, inadvertently spreads a dusty trail of death through downtown Los Angeles. […]

Flowers of Fate

The boy ran up the lane, his thoughts filled with a sweet tension. What would she say? How did she feel about him? Did she know he loved her? His heart beat faster, and his hands were hot. The wind whipped around him, trees sighing like his heart as the leaves moved against each […]

La Pâtisserie

The scent of cinnamon and honey rolled in the breeze, and I followed the trail down the cobbled road. The pastry shop was small and old, but was well-kept and clean. As I entered, a small bell on the door chimed.

An old woman was rolling dough out on a stone slab, and I […]

Gone Before

The sun glinted off a small object, tumbling slowly end over end. Maxwell breathed slowly, smoothly, and pushed away from the airlock with his legs. He saw in his rear view video feed the ship receding quickly. A moment watching this, and Maxwell whispered, “Select Ranged Target 122798, cross-hair image superimpose, forward feed.” Now […]

The Point

It was another pointless day at my community college. The usual agitators in my English 204 class had started a discussion which ranged far off its original course, and finally degenerated into an argument about that old cliche: If you knew a nuclear weapon was about to explode in a city in a few hours, […]