When Fort McMurray winters get this ridiculous, all you can do is watch the realm of Men build snow hills…and write a tale that might outlast the frost.
Tag: short-story
A City of Masks
The fight changes when you learn who’s holding the strings.
BOO. Seriously.
Some hauntings demand terror. Others just demand coffee.
Pale in the Wheat
The fog never left that field—and something pale still waits among the wheat
The Quiet Among Us
In this town, no one speaks above a whisper — and the quiet watches.
Shadows of Summer
August is ending, the air is cool, and the orchard is full of whispers...
The Last Good Hill
Something is coming—something no roar can stop.
Per My Last Sip
By cup four, Burt was in space, the chicken had wings, and I was sweating coffee. The story wrote itself. I just held on.
The Last Walk
In memory of our sweet Lila.
The CJBuzz 