No Horizon

No horizon in the final third. Ultimate free time until Death comes for you. An endless stretch of unstructured time is too much. “Do it for yourself” and I procrastinate. “Do it for me”, and I’m on it.Continue Reading

Vexton

Sacrilege was served hot. Soup—thick with hominy, dried chilis, and joy—bubbled beside the manifesto. Someone brought ketchup. Someone said “meh.” And suddenly, the poopie face hour was in session.Continue Reading