The pulse of distant highway traffic in the rain is the most soothing sound I know.
C. and I spent the afternoon in a dark gallery and tested how our video reflected off different surfaces.
I love driving at night. It feels like a video game.
Today I learned your gun permit is an acceptable form of voter identification, which feels almost too American.
This afternoon I idled behind a white Honda with a crumpled fender.
The end of Daylight Savings Time is my favorite holiday because it brings the night closer.
C. and I are trying to determine our best route to Vegas.
I’d like to live in a world of apologetic gods and talking satellites.
I’ve decided to embrace the upside of insomnia.
We often discuss what would happen if one of us saw a ghost. It might be the most fundamental test of any relationship.
You can almost taste it, that bright metallic sensation that floods the brain when it decides there will be no sleep tonight.
A lone gas station in the night is my church.
The mounted head of a deer gazed down at a golden Buddha and a silkscreen of Audrey Hepburn.
Above a shuttered rest area, a billboard announced “Jesus Christ is the Answer! Call Dan’s Windows & Flooring!”
Last week I logged into LinkedIn to hunt for some design work. Depression hit me in seconds.
