Latest Works

As Aeneus carried Anchises  out of burning Troy  towards the stars and away from crisis,  their creator cradles you, old boy,  from the...

Like the Gates of Hell is a digital art piece initially inspired by lyrics from Mitski’s “Stay Soft”—specifically, the image contained...

Kids don’t play outside anymore, but when my brothers and I were kids it’s all we did. We built fairy houses under the trees, looked for...

My Lady burns me with green leaves of poison ivy, tenderly sliming my crumbling cheeks that press against the mirror to watch her kiss my...

Dante does not presume to call him by name But poet, father, master, teacher and guide. His respect seems paramount, but the words ring...

“Jimmy!” Grant whispered. He grabbed his sleeping brother’s shoulder and shook him. “Jimmy, wake up!” Jimmy groaned. He opened one eye...

Kate looks nearly translucent under the stage’s spotlight. But she knows this. She doesn’t wear a getup like the others. No tattered...

Nobody batted an eye while the man with the carrion-crow mask handed the little girl flowers of violet. Not even the young farmhand, who...

the damned stands before her ʻāina ,  repressed tears embellish her limpid eyes  as she overlooks the lavender, melancholy skies, ...

Letter from Wolfgang Jakob Welsch to his friend Julius Hofmann, 1627. Translated from the original German by Dr. Angela Windsor, 2009. My...

“Tell me a bedtime story, mother,” the child says. “What kind of story?” the mother asks. “One of your scary ones. One about the...

October 15, 2043 I’ve been accepted! By train and boat we journey to join the other initiates. We’re allowed three final phone calls –...

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It was a boy with smooth skin and cheeks creased from smiles. A certain sheen glinted...

Zephiel used to like Purgatory. He’d enjoyed shepherding souls to redemption, purifying  the reformed, and even overseeing the delicate...

The first photo pings Luka’s phone at 11:27 am, while he’s scrolling through Zillow listings of houses in Sun City that he can afford but...

From where you crouch, the city is a swarm of lights. You hear the horn of the final ferry and know it carries the day’s last tourists....

They sit sallow in dourness, barely a ghostfire stays illumed in the depthless height of jealous Seraphim. They are grooming nits and...

It would not be found on any tourist map, but ask the locals; they could tell you. In the dark heart of St. Martin Parish, east of New...

The two holy men traveled by day, each of them on their own mule, riding slowly through the grass, until they came to the cabin in the...

Part I: Their ship wasn't meant for oars, but they brought them above deck anyway. They tied the sails down, securing them with ropes to...