Southern Fried Shorts

The streets here are paved with shit. Literally. When I first arrived, it was sensory overload, and rising above it all, over all the othe...

These things are not easy to write about. It’s hard to find the words, but I’ll try. I have to try. If I don’t write this out, then no one w...

“How are you doing?” the doctor asked. “Not bad for a dying man,” I said. “This is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the nurse. ...

The light at the end of the tunnel was not what you expected it to be. Instead of bright and warm and comforting, you felt it burn. It felt ...

I spent my days searching for the hidden spaces between colors, the silent tones hidden in melodies, and listening for the unsaid words in e...

George Orwell ran inside his red plastic wheel. The metal bits had not been oiled in quite some time, so it squeaked loudly as his little pa...