Flecks of paint plaster his overalls, each spot a congealed memory that sticks to him like the hairs of a brush stick to each other. Most of…
It happened slowly. So quiet and deliberate, no one realized that the world they saw when they went to sleep was slightly different…
I hear them buzzing in the middle of July. Christmas lights. Purple lightbulbs bleached by the sun, still illuminated each night, reflecting…
