I burned Bill today.
How much time passes at the bottom of a lunch box? Minutes? Hours? None at all?
If you look back, you’ll see that Morning Coffee started as a fifteen-minute warm-up. Thanks to you, it’s grown into a popular little fiction series. (And seriously, thanks.) I won’t lie: it’s been a challenge keeping everything straight. But it’s worth it; when my readers appreciate my work as much as you do, it behooves me to pay meticulous attention to it. So here’s a little look at me, the man behind the curtain. Continue reading we interrupt this program // 9.2.17
My lunch is gone. I didn’t eat it.
It’s raining outside, I think. I can’t tell. Continue reading morning coffee // The Window
The oak leaf I pinned to my cubicle wall has begun to root–without soil, water, or sunlight. Continue reading Morning coffee, 8.22.17