I Was a Teenage Hitman: Volume 1 There’s a fifth season in Arizona that not many know about. It comes along at any point in the summer, when the pressure from the heat swells to the point of bursting. Monolithic clouds fill the sky and spill into the atmosphere; the humidity boils until it bursts and rain finally surrenders itself from the sky. It’s called the monsoon, and helps to keep the deserts alive.
Vocal to Vella: Where Should We Publish?
Recent Departures There's been a serious of sendoff-type top stories lately, and they've all had a similar theme; the writer has outgrown the platform and seeks opportunities elsewhere. Most of them have read the same: I think they provide more closure for the author than anything else.
- Top Story - May 2023
Artist Inbox: Ivan PalmaTop Story - May 2023
The Inbox AI has been at the forefront of creative discussion for years at this point; as a creator within a network, I work with every shade of artist, from editors to designers, and I value each and every one of them. AI is a cool daydream, but the idea of being "replaced" by a program is almost laughable.
- First Place in Sky's the Limit Challenge
The Lion and the PilotFirst Place in Sky's the Limit Challenge
A chopper drifted over the steep ramparts of the Mogollon Rim; a black monolith dividing the summer night. The moon offered what little glow it had, but still wasn’t bright enough for a full Search and Rescue operation. Dawn would bring on the horses and dog teams more fit for the terrain.
The Cosmic Rehearsal
Things that are abstract to human perception naturally belong to God - who or whatever that is to you. Time, mathematics, consciousness, the psychedelic experience: all property of the Cosmos, the spirit, and really can only be thought about or spoken on, never pointed out in our environment for someone to behold, like a temple, a canyon, or a jagged scar.
The Widow's Call
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. Percy obscured the foreground, followed by Donaghue, and finally myself in the rear. We rocked in the belly of a merchant vessel bound for the Royal coast; the mirror was the first piece of cargo stumbled upon in our pursuit of transport treasure.
- Top Story - March 2023
Distant Thunder // Trembling FutureTop Story - March 2023
I’ve never approached another human being with the intent to fall in love. It’s never been part of my plan or approach to personal situations. Falling in love is much like a streak of lightning: an unpredictable flash that demands every sliver of my attention. It overwhelms my eyes and annexes my vision. If I’m close enough, I feel the electricity tracing through my veins, making static in my muscles. I search for the column of light across a swirling black canvas, but the bolt fades to night before I can behold any part of it. After the initial spark, a great ruckus follows, like boulders falling just above my head. Like the thunder and lightning, love steals my breath before I can recognize it.