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carthage
The priest waved me to a chair across from his desk without looking up. The smell of mothballs and cigar smoke lingered in the dingy, outmoded room, but I'd never seen him smoke.

"So," he said, "a crisis of faith, is it?" (more)
janice
The next time she sees him again he's wearing a parka. It's anyone's guess what city they're in, how many years are etched into their faces, in hers in gentle, slowly hardening lines radiating from the corners of her eyes, in his, a hardness in his cheekbones, that cuts(more)
JonDan
People are often surprised I dabbled in psychedelics when young. Truthfully, it wasn't "dabbling," it was obsessive indulgence. I was entranced by the window into perception, the metaphysical realm beyond definition. You name a psychedelic, I've likely taken it.
(more)
SSVandin
Tick, tick, tick...

The sweat dripped off his forehead and plopped onto the project he so focused on. In the office, away from the field, he complained about how movies made it look easy. But it was moments like this, 110 degrees, dehydration making his joints grind and(more)
joem18b
endless dream: two sinks
in the bathroom upstairs, both
used at the same time