A storm warning crackled on the radio. I tried to listen, but it cut in and out of white noise. I slammed my hand on the dash. It didn’t help – the speakers were shot. The Rogue, my faithful highway companion, was beat. Not even five-years old, the car had mileage. I let the static be. I didn’t need a warning. I could see the dark clouds on the Kansas horizon. ‘The Wraith,’ ‘Blue Bullet,’ ‘Teardrop,’ – names my high school friends gave it. Nothing stuck quite like ‘The Rogue.’

Or in the penumbra of a summer night — August: The eighth month of the year; a great respect, majestic, venerable, inspiring the highest admiration and regard.

Alone, the traveler walked the streets of Havana Viejo – Old Havana. The winter night was dry but warm and the sea breathed a gentle breeze.

Published in Vol. 2 of 10011 Mag, the art zine of Claudia Eng Gallery

Before the Captain lay an uncertain sea of choices.

Published in The American Dissident: A Journal of Literature, Democracy & Dissidence

Short story inspired by the painting, "Serenity of the Scholar" by Giorgio de Chirico. Originally published anonymously in Literate Sunday

Selected to be published in print for Catalogue [Short Story Anthology]