a fleeting ripple

Even on a Friday night, it is quiet. Not a single person has passed from the street in hours, one by one the last dredges of light...

There is a tree outside the window, its leaves a warm green in the grey weather. It sways to a phantom wind, branches dancing. But now is...

The wind rages outside as the windows shake and a slight breeze curls around your arms. There’s going to be another storm, a tradeoff for...