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hunting

It’s Inside Your House

It wakes you. Not the moan of a withered hag or the fleeting voice of a dead man, but the low trill of wind slipping past your window. Air being pressed into a hushed breath. The shadows meld themselves back into your bedroom. You blink. The blurred, hazy object of …

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Black Ibis

I have been a hunter since a very young age. A wanderer of the silent woods, a stalker of the croaking marshes, a drifter of the sighing deserts. My father was a hunter as was his father. I would say it runs in our blood, but I think it runs …

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The Wolves of These Frozen Woods

I can’t stand to be back here. This tiny, rural town I grew up in, it makes my skin crawl to see everything around me. I’m well into middle-age now, but it’s like this town has been frozen in time since I was a teenager. And the older I get, …

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