Are you facing in the right direction? Can you catch the eyes of your reflection?

Now that he lives effectively a street and a parking lot from me, choco_frosh came over this evening to borrow a can opener. In the midst of plague-stress, it is one of the more normal interactions I have had in almost two years. I asked him if he wanted a cup of sugar, too.

This tiara has gone on the list of things I would steal from museums. I am very fond of this comic about the Mari Lwyd, too.

The narrowed iris of my life does not please me. I feel like every time I get a fingerhold on a semblance of stability, something else happens. I am very sick of the something else.

It's fair to say we were the ghosts we used to want to come to our town and haunt

My poems "Plures" and "Digging In" are now online at microverses: a hub for tiny speculative narratives.

The first was written almost exactly a year ago; it is perhaps more terrible than its original impetus that it doesn't read like it. The second has its roots, literally, in a cornfield visited by me and selkie in the fall of 2019, by which I might as well now mean the other side of the moon; it was written last fall and came out a spell.

I don't know if I would call them a nice per se note to go out of the year on, but their publication makes me very happy. I love the photos chosen to accompany both. I include the murder corn for completeness' sake.