To My Missing Dulce, on the Night of Your Departure
I held your head in my lap and wept, unafraid to beg you not to go. Not yet. You couldn’t. It was undeniable how scared you were, afraid of how…
I held your head in my lap and wept, unafraid to beg you not to go. Not yet. You couldn’t. It was undeniable how scared you were, afraid of how…
Today I posted a new short story over on my Patreon. It’s called NeuroWave. This is a near-future cyberpunk story about the potential future of the gig economy. What happens…
There's a pushback from readers against prologues, but where does it come from and does it have any merit?
Substack isn't the place to be. Not for me.