Drawing blood

Previously: Paisley, rosemary, and time A half-eaten deli sub, still partially wrapped in its butcher paper sleeve, lay bleeding olive oil on Det. Sean Webster’s desk. His rumpled shirt and tie were splattered with the greasy effluence and tiny orts of focaccia dotted the thighs of his dark, too-tight pants. June Chapel sat across from … Continue reading Drawing blood


The good news was that I woke up face up, the bad news was I was alone in a marsh of yellow wildflowers in the middle of nowhere. After wondering where I was and why I was there, I thought that under normal circumstances the tiny daisies were sort of pretty, in a random, out-of-focus … Continue reading Wildflowers