He was born in the night. While his father’s sword flashed and the fury of its steel rang over distant battlefields. She held him and her hands trembled. Tears tumbled over soft cheeks and pearls of sweat shook and clung to her arched neck. Silent, she listened to the...

Now that day has exhausted me I give myself over, a tired child, to my old friends, the stars– my watchful guardians, quiet and mild. Night gathered itself about the large bay window so that the baked brown roofs might merge with the purple above, and the world feel...

And then he was gone. Just a pen, uncapped, still rolling down the desk, to prove he had been there at all. Next came hedgerows and furrowed fields blurring, hoof and harness, wheel and whip all singing. Escape, escape, to adventures unknown. Skies with grey brows...

It began as music. A harp of glass, strings tight and brittle, that shattered at the slightest touch. Its breaking became a whispering and then a thin, uneasy laughing. Finally, with a wild-eyed cackle and snarling roar, the ice shattered. Voices growled, hoarse,...

The sensation of being slowly pulled apart is strongest in the evening. I liken it to that feeling when nails are painstakingly, unapologetically dragged across slate. The view through the chipped frame, the Kaerntnerstrasse, is one of two worlds superimposed. Neither...

It was like the site of some ancient meteor strike. A huge crater, ringed with lines of blue benches, leading down to a darkened stage below. When the wind dropped, and the grass stopped its whispering, and the canvas roof fell silent, crickets and a tiny tumbling...