I think for a minute. Watching my wife fade into the distance, I put a hand on my heart. "Dead." I wave a hand toward my wife. "Dead." My eyes drift ….

I know I'm not going to say good-bye. And if these staggering refugees want to help, if they think they see something bigger here than a boy chasing ….

I adapt to things quickly, including good things, which I wish I could shut off sometimes. My friends have to keep reminding me how crazy my life has….

Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting?.

She gathers my half of the blankets around her and curls up against the wall. She will sleep for hours more, dreaming endless landscapes and novas of….

There’s not really such thing as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people, there’s just like…humanity. And it gets broken sometimes..

He is spent. His mind is mercury again, its brief surge of humanity melting into an oily residue on its surface, and he no longer understands the fee….

That's why we have memory. And the opposite of memory— hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can built off our pasts and make future..

Now I’m just standing here on the conveyor. Along for the ride. I reach the end, turn around, and go back the other way. The world has been distilled….

Maybe this is why I sleep only a few hours a month. I don't want to die again. This has become clearer and clearer to me recently, a desire so sharp ….

All my life I have battled the alarm clock, pummeling the snooze button over and over with mounting self-loathing until the shame is finally strong e….

I've always been interested in writing from the perspective of an outsider..

She is Living and I'm Dead, but I'd like to believe we're both human. Call me an idealist..

She hugs me. It's tentative at first, a little scared, and yes, a little repulsed, but then she melts into it. She rests her head against my cold nec….

What happened? How did I get here? How could I have known that my choices mattered?.

Stop. Breathe those useless breaths. Drop this piece of life you’re holding to your lips. Where are you? How long have you been here? Stop now. You h….

I would like my life to be a movie so I could cut to a montage..

We're fumbling in the dark, but at least we're in motion..

It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go..

I adapt to things quickly, including good things, which I wish I could shut off sometimes..

... we shoved out many hopes and fears into their hands, believing those hands were strong because they had firm handshakes. They failed us, always. ….