From writer

Hope’s Existence (Short Story)

If she had been new to this, she would have cried. She would have lashed out and beat her fists on the interior of her car until her hands were bruised. Now, there was only a sense of falling through thick, stifling air.

Quadwallups and Filaments

I glanced at the clock. It was 2:12 a.m., but light flooded through the windows of my house as if it were midday. That wasn’t the strange part.