Jetties.

Jetties.

I hadn’t seen a jetty before. Not in my thoughts of God. Not in my lofty spiritual pursuits nor in desperate pleas for my longings to be fulfilled. Jetties don’t belong there. Not there. But I still see him. And we’re there. In the place I had thrown...
Coffee Conversion

Coffee Conversion

A fly balances on the edge of an empty mocha latte glass. Traces of beige frothed milk line its walls, as the insect that still survives New Zealand’s autumn buzzes around the room, constantly landing back to salivate on the leftover glass. Why am I starting a...

What Sustains the Flame?

The finger-height flame flickers with fresh fire. Candles get lighted all the time but this one is different, this one fires up the heart of anyone who sees it because this candle– it’s something different, it’s for a purpose, for an art. The art of story...