Welcome, sleeping wanderer, to the peculiar seasons of the liminal spaces. Here you’ll find the things that fall between the cracks; too small to see, too indefinite to measure.
The stories you’ll find here may be your final gleaming, my thoughts written from dark daydreaming, whether they be random musings or flash fiction I’ve put together over the years.
You’ll find the work of others – interloping ne’er-do-wells who’ll join us in eventide when the walls shrink and the shadows grow, and the clock by the bed speaks of the march of death; when the soughing wind in the eaves calls you to prayer; when the frowning windows and moue of the door calls…
So light your lamp and take a seat, settle in the gloaming and I’ll tell you what I’ve seen…
Manus Gloriae In graveyards we live, so you can thrive. But you flee — to…