Chromatic Debris

It was 10 a.m., my head heavy, my thoughts slow. The lingering fog of a sleeping pill clung to me like cobwebs. I stepped into the hallway, still half asleep, when Harry, my 83-year-old...

I was eleven, stoned out of my mind, crouched in the bushes at the edge of the local park with a few friends. We huddled close, passing a joint like it was some sacred secret, our laughter...

I was alone in the community garden when Matthew hobbled in. I didn’t know much about Matthew beyond the garden. We only met once before when he limped in on crutches and his leg in...