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(Seattle, Washington) The rhythmic clack-clack of the evening train echoing through Seattle’s Cherry Hill neighborhood always brought a profound sense of peace to Lilly. From the high windows of her father’s workshop, she could see the city lights beginning to twinkle, casting a warm glow over the quiet streets lined with cherry trees. Inside the workshop, the air smelled of cedar, old paper,…

(Galveston, Texas 7/3/1865)The oil in the iron brassier hissed, casting bloated, dancing shapes against the limestone walls of the cistern. For as long as Silas could remember, the world was exactly twenty feet wide and bounded by damp rock. Photo by ntare lambert on Pexels.com Every night, Simple Vance would project the Optic—a heavy, brass-rimmed lens connected to a humming ether-vane. The…

The neon sign of the Clover Land Feed & Fuel buzzed with a low, irritating hum that vibrated right through Gertrude’s synthetic knee. Clover Land, Texas wasn’t much of a town anymore. When the tech conglomerates terraformed the panhandle, they left the red dirt behind but replaced the sky with a massive, shimmering atmospheric dome. Now, the clouds were programmed, the humidity was regulated,…

The wind off the Salish Sea carried the crisp, salty scent of pine and freedom. On the porch of a secluded cabin on Orcas Island, Queen Chipeta—known to those who truly knew her heart as “Queenie”—sat in a cedar hand carved rocking chair. At her feet lay five massive, silent huskies, their watchful eyes mimicking the ancient vigilance of their mistress. Queenie looked at her hands. They were…

(Seattle, Washington) The June rain in Seattle didn’t fall so much as it drifted, a fine, cool mist that blurred the neon glow of the Pike Place Market sign. Inside The Crumpet Shop, the air was thick with the scent of toasted yeast and melted butter. Photo by Line Knipst on Pexels.com Eighty-two-year-old Margarette sat by the window, her hands—gnarled like the roots of the old-growth Douglas…

The pine woods of Conroe, Texas, hold a lot of deadly secrets, but none were as dark as the red-brick house on the edge of town where Maya grew up. Maya’s world was dictated by her maternal aunt, Evelyn, a tall jet black woman with big feet and masculine traits. Evelyn was a cancer sun sign born on the 1st of July. Evelyn was a woman carved out of bitterness and hate. She was cruel, destructive,…