flax-golden

lonely ghosts in the machine I still don’t understand why an antique store needs to be open twenty-four hours a day, but the owner is nice and pays well and since hardly any customers

not a real dog Momma says he’s not a real dog. She says he’s “just a statue” and “not a particularly impressive one at that.” She says I shouldn’t pretend he’s a real dog

encounter with my younger self at an intersection of paths taken and not When I reach another fork in the path there is a boldly lettered sign on a tree that reads “TRAIL” accompanied

numerical meanings People always ask me what the numbers mean. They assume I know just because I put them there. I don’t, not in any way that I can articulate. My mother used to

a bluer blue blue sky I steal the color from the sky sometimes. Sorry. Though technically it’s not the sky’s own color anyway, it’s a reflection of the ocean. Also technically it is borrowing

possibly imaginary (but still perilous) sea journey We found a round old-fashioned map on a ball so we decided to take a sea journey because most of the map ball is oceans. Parts of