An atom relaxes …

Not so long ago nor far away, in his study, Mr. Wormley sat pondering, his spine resting firmly against the oxblood leather. A hint of peppermint tried but failed to hide that other smell. His eyes, red-rimmed and baby-blue, peered out over his grandpa-glasses, wire-rimmed and half-moon shaped. Steepled before …

Complete honesty …

Christmas Eve at the quarter century, a fog lay thick and expectant across the bay, draping out over the city with whom it shares a name—an eldritch and unnatural thing in the unseasonal warmth, one that could well have concealed most anything. The living land is bounded by two …

Every day and from every corner …

My first Mardi Gras was 20 years ago, on my birthday—New Orleans being a place that truly embraces the spirit of my birthday—and for some time, from within a crowd across the street, just after dusk had given way to night; I saw, then watched, the ghostly-blue visage …

Brief remark on the significance of perspective as viewed through electricity.