Tam’s Soul

In this life, Tam Duc is eighty-five years old, weighs thirty-eight kilograms and travels from the Northern island of Cát Bà, to Năm Căn on the one leg remaining after meeting a French landmine 72 years ago. It is a journey of 2000 kilometers. Năm Căn is nothing more than the Southernmost tip of Vietnam. …

The Sacrifice

God is the sudden appearance of warmth and light. The mountain is silent. The wind has stopped. The sun is bright yellow in the billowing high mountain fog. Abrham collapses. His legs no longer support his weight. His breath is haggard and his vision blurs. At the end, despite the beautiful passage of the sun, …

Enraptured

The air smells like incense. Maybe patchouli. Maybe something more narcotic, sinister, it could be poison and Steve wouldn't care. He sits and watches the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life dance alone in the middle of a bare stage. She glides as if every muscle in her body were made …

Missed

Black with rage the boy storms the iron-clad beast. His enemy sets his feet in rust spotted sabatons and his legs form a bridge over the unconscious girl. He smiles his rotten tooth smile and crooks his index finger "Come along little doggy," he whispers with a raspy voice. The would-be warrior grunts with effort …

Lichen

The Sun crests with a blazing blast of yellow light just as one of the grey ramshackle dwellings sitting on the lip of the rocky cliff gives up in its fight with gravity and shifts with a crack of dry alpine wood. The unexpected screams of terror of those inside, echo against the wet granite …

Fight Night

Loud bass echoes. A fight breaks out in the back. The impromptu violence competes with the music in the lowest level of the condemned multi structure garage. The situation gets dangerous fast and a gun goes off. Following the shot, a shrill cry of "No, no, not Morris, no," bounces off the cold, wet cement …

Out West

The remnants of the fort are five or six black ashy posts sticking stubbornly out of the rocky snow-covered ground. Twenty of the dead face the setting sun. They sit a cook fire. Staring mindlessly into the leaping flames, something bubbles. It doesn’t smell good. Nearby, meat rots. Gerald climbs the small rise, loose stones …