“Call me Ziggy.”

I grew up reading about strange realities and distant futures.

I’ve been lost in the stories that continue to ravage my mind ever since.

I write those stories for others and myself to digest, for pleasure or worse.

New Short Story

Out Now!

The Heist of New Boston

A sample of what is to come…

. . .

             She put the cigarette between her red lips, then flicked a match across my wooden chair. In the flash of the match, I caught a view of her beauty that she hid in the shadows. Her skin was pale and venomous, with eyes of diamond that would find light even in the depths of darkness. She monitored the match on the cigarette, the flame’s reflection dancing in her eyes. It was like looking through a two-way mirror at an old memory of someone I once knew. Then, for a century, her eyes met mine. Warm nostalgia skipped over the moon as I saw another woman’s face hastily painted over hers, with those same gleaming pair of gemstones staring back at me. In another moment, all that nostalgic bliss was dragged away by their prison guard as the images of the other woman’s death flashed before me. I looked away before she lowered her head again and shook out the match, shrouding her face back into darkness.

. . .