The Illusion of Comfort

The pass is black with shadows. A bitter wind eats at the exposed skin of the brother and sister as they push through. They trudge through ice-crusted snow that breaks with each step plunging their legs knee-deep into the powder. Their homespun breeches and leather ankle booties do nothing to ward off the cold. Marine …


One More Bite

The soft cold brine. The knowing. The tangle. *** The hard swoop of steel against physics. The nothing strike on flesh. *** The burst. The first splat and crunch. So satisfying, relish every moment. So few come. So few. *** Nothing left now. But wait. It comes again. One more bite and plunge!