The Island

The Island

Owen watched Aubrey press her palm into a thick patch of speckled moss girdling the trunk of an old Douglas fir. The move was gentle and precise, how a mime might seek an invisible wall, and he couldn’t help but imagine her locked up in some dark basement, kidnapped,...
Ice a Mile Thick

Ice a Mile Thick

My son stares at the mazes of rusted, graffiti-scrawled pipes. He asks what they’re for. The real answer is boring, so I say, “Scientific experiments on aliens.” “Someday I’m going to live here,” he says. The structure is actually a skeleton of an old gasworks factory...
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