My Dog Dreams About My Death

Do you ever just sit and watch your sleeping dog? Observe as their little feet run along the ground, just waving halfway in the air as they let out innocent half-gruntled barks. Have you ever just wondered what’s going on inside their sleeping minds, what they’re dreaming about? Maybe it’s

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I remember my first kiss. What boy doesn’t? Lisa Miller’s soft wet mouth pressed into mine as the salty flavor of her tears coated my lips, a taste I still remember after all these years. Then she was gone. I was eleven when the plastic men came. Sydney called them

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Tales From Port-land

I found something I shouldn’t have, or maybe I should, I don’t know. I was helping my parents move out of their old house and into mine. Their house was about ten miles from the nearest town and even farther from a hospital. This scared me ever since the doctors

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