Ms. R. stormed into my life in 2005, rearranging the furniture in my brain. So I wrote this letter for her not knowing what she would think. And I let her see it before publishing it. She said it was sweet and the nicest thing anyone wrote for her—poor girl.

for Rachel H.

I know a woman who dreams and whose dreams feed upon the Earth—dark dreams where the living dead seize this Earth one agonizing victim at a time. With one bite, the heart pumps infected hemoglobin down dark arterial paths that twist and branch and broaden from species to genus and from genus to phylum where they terminate in the Kingdom of the Dead. Continue reading


In 2008 I worked at a college that required an hour commute. To amuse myself, I would imagine myself as a different character each morning then compose a short story based loosely on my commute. Afterwards I would write them down and post them to my blog. They began as one-paragraph shorts, but with time and practice I grew more ambitious.

In this example, I imagined myself as 007 during my morning commute. Continue reading


“Are you a technician or a driveling idiot?”  — “The Proud Robot” (1943)

The story goes that science-fiction writer, Henry Kuttner, named his inebriated and gifted scientist “Gallagher” while writing “The Time Locker” then mistakenly called him “Galloway” when writing its sequel. And after realizing his error, Kuttner combined the names giving “Galloway Gallagher” his full name. Continue reading


One Sunday as a child, I sat in church listening to our pastor deliver a sermon on the Last Judgement. Being a kid with an active imagination, I envisioned angels using TVs to show sinners our sins.

In the Anglo-Saxon tradition of poetry, poets used cadence rather than rhyme to weave their spell. These poets used alliteration to drive the beat of their spoken words. Being a fan of Anglo-Saxon poetry, I have tried to tried to do the same. Continue reading


A highway in Strange Loop, Texas—while driving home today, I hit upon what I believed was a bright idea and instantly snapped my fingers. Then I caught myself and asked aloud, “I wonder who first thought to finger snap when hitting upon a bright idea?”

And as my car hugged the curvature of space and time, rocketing  past the farms skirting the rural highway, this question sent my mind reeling. Continue reading