Here The Author Lies

She visited me three times, maybe more, that soft ghost who smelled like violet, violet and fabric softener perfuming age-perfected jeans. She only came in when nobody else was there, seemingly always as my consciousness ebbed. She didn’t say anything at first, mostly, or if she did I didn’t hear it…. »

Smoke hung in the bar and wafted around between the clustered, colored lights like an addictive fog. David watched. It was pleasing. Other than that things were turning out pretty shit.

He sat and pondered the call he had received an hour earlier. Rox. It had been almost four months since he had heard anything from… »

Morning is their favorite time together. It is the only time of day when the east-facing window gets direct sunlight and the fresh upslope wind blows from the city below, entwining their foliage in an intimate wind dance. Juan, a spider plant and Rafael, an ornamental palm, are friends and have been growing together on… »