The rain falls on me, heavy at first, then lighter, then heavier again. I am soaked to the skin, and I am hoping that the backpack I’m wearing is waterproof. I’m afraid to open it to check, and so I leave it on and just keep walking. The further I …
It isn’t raining outside Sullivan’s shop, but it looks as though it had been until only a few moments before. The blacktop dimly reflects the light which fell through the heavy dark clouds above, and the narrow sidewalk is layered in a thin sheet of water which still seems to …
“What is this place?” I ask. “What do you do here?” Instead of answering, Sullivan turns away from me, there on the other side of the glass counter, and reaches for an item on the shelf behind him. He sets it down between us and folds his arms, not speaking. …
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep. At some point while I’ve been out, someone—Sullivan?—has put a small table beside the cot, and on this table he has put a cup of water and three spotted bananas. I reach out for the cup and drink the water in one …
Wake up. A voice, not mine. In my dream, this dream of snow and ice and cold? Wake up. Not a dream. “Wake up,” the voice says, and so I do, letting my head break through the surface of my sleep, just barely, just enough. It is a struggle to …
I am in the falling snow. Behind me, the door in the shed hangs open, and I can see the workbench, and the cans of paint on the floor, and the dusty window in the wall. Through the glass, the sun shines brightly, and the sky is cloudless and blue. …
“In is the way out,” Middlemost says again. A subtle current of air drifts through the shed, and motes of dust spin through the beam of sunlight coming through the window. I can detect the faint scent of the sea, although we are miles from the shore. “You have questions,” …
The taste is like cobwebs on my tongue, and it starts the moment I cross the threshold and enter the shed. The light is dim, the window small and coated in a layer of dust and grime, and it becomes more dark when I let go of the door and …
The sky is clear today, but there is a fog in my head that is unpleasant and leaves me feeling out of balance. The drive from my apartment to San Mateo was difficult, but because of myself and not the traffic on the roads. The coin and the key are …
I have decided to go out today. The sun is creeping through the gap between the curtains in my bedroom, carving a bright line across the comforter on the bed. I have been watching it move slowly from the foot of the bed up to the center, and I have …
The Belly of the Storm
The Ubiquity of Wallflowers
A Library of One