The Chez Dispenser
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lucid.
It’s a foggy morning; mist wreathes the dead trees around him, clinging to the forest floor. He can taste the wintry chill in the air as he wanders down the trail, hands in his pockets. Acoustic guitar music, slow and… Continue reading
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the end of the end.
The professor flipped the switch and saved the world. Continue reading
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last shift.
WARD 9, the sign above the door reads. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Continue reading
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the featherless indian.
My first Lumbee-adjacent assignment during my early days at my current gig — staff writer at Tribal Business News — turns out to be an entrepreneur profile on Moore Brothers’ Beef, a North-Carolina-based cattle outfit built on the remains of… Continue reading
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on what it costs.
Every so often I go back and check on her — to find out whether anything new has come up. She’s a bright smile in one photograph, a playful sneer in another. Her friends miss her, they tell me. They… Continue reading
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angry.
I have one summer memory I always come back to, whenever June rolls in. It was 2007. (God, that was 16 years ago.) I went with some friends down to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. It was a pretty impromptu… Continue reading
The Chez Dispenser 