essays

  • trick mirror.

    What he doesn’t seem to understand, as the streetlights blaze by us, fake stars hanging low, too low–what he doesn’t seem to see is the trap he’s laid for himself. He talks about plans for the future, jobs he might… Continue reading

    trick mirror.
  • peacekeeper.

    Koyalev Ilgazred squints at the half-polished guardsman’s badge in her hand, then dips a cloth in some alcohol and resumes scrubbing. She can’t see her reflection yet, so she – The badge disappears under her pillow as she hears the… Continue reading

    peacekeeper.
  • wrath, fear, and debt.

    One of the regulars at the place tosses him a half-apple in exchange for a story, and the old man obliges. The apple is nice – he takes a thinking bite, considering her request. “I heard tell of a king,… Continue reading

    wrath, fear, and debt.
  • 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

    the featherless indian.
  • 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

    on what it costs.
  • 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

    angry.