invisible girl

the invisible girl draws a thin coat around herself. it's been raining, and it would be cold if it weren't for the fact that the sun now beats down on the ground. if she looks hard enough, she'd almost swear that she can see the shimmer of water evaporating. water doesn't shimmer when it evaporates, she… Continue reading invisible girl


she flicks the map that takes up one-third of wall space. on her desk, there's a spinning globe: sometimes she taps it to set it rotating. unfocuses her eyes and lets the world blur past. she makes a list, writing alphabetically, reverse-alphabetically and flips it around again. scrambles the order, calls up online travel literature.… Continue reading wanderlust

car + coast + shine

the car shines under early-morning sunlight, aimed towards the next coast.   map's at the ready and a bag of snacks wait in the passenger seat.   start up the engine, drive into the sunset and write a travel log.

Vignette (3)

Note: I spy a lot of things while on the bus. It's a run-of-the-mill Wednesday. Nothing stands out especially clearly: sometimes the bus is packed to capacity, but right now it's not and we're zooming towards the station where people will transfer to trains. In the background, at every stop, I can hear the driver… Continue reading Vignette (3)


Flash Fiction July, 10 Last time I knew her, she had a penchant for stating the obvious. She was the sort of person who would chatter to fill silence, not to say something of meaning. When I think back on it now, most of what she said was dead weight, a desperate effort to not… Continue reading Unsubtlety

inventing adventure (300)

she wanted to know about my purpose. how, she implored, had i found it so young? in her world, purpose was a thing you found after you'd done a few years' sensible work, maybe some careful mapping out. she was a scheduler, a planner, and she didn't understand my methods - or my madness. i crafted… Continue reading inventing adventure (300)

poetry 101 rehab: places

she dwells in infinity. the world is old, new - wildly changing. she makes no effort to find one safe place. instead, she roams: goes wherever sounds interesting at present. she doesn't ever stay long enough to make a history. (prefers to cycle through people and apartments) each year she's displaced, discomforted - -and every… Continue reading poetry 101 rehab: places