Woke within sleep inside of a giant, sun-bleached ribcage sticking up like spires from a bone city buried in sand. Attempts to classify or clarify were thwarted by the dreamthread dissolving before I could trace my fingers over the runes on each rib. I caught a wisp of it, ghost of a girl reclining on a rise in the sand like a splash of smooth ( Read more... )

We locked into an undercurrent that we'd been trying to harness for months. It had been whooshing under us like a subway train and all we could do is catch its sick wind through the grates while we tried in vain to coax it off the rails. It finally derailed and we caught it; Pogo's stomach-churning beat, the Hades Symphony Orchestra wailing out of ( Read more... )

The compulsion is to have declared that we have devoured the night. People will hold us to blame, if not to ransom. Exclamation! A tendency to feel our way around has nothing to do with being blind. We just like the extra sensation. A flick of the wrist, a simple twitch of the hips throws off more scent of ecstacy than they will amass in their ( Read more... )

[did you catch the part where this is not real?]