observation

  • The Fourth Wall

    When the character looks directly at the reader is a strange moment. Not toward them. Not past them. At them. For a long time, the writer had pretended not to notice. The writer knew when the pages were being turned. They could feel the slight disturbance in the air every time someone arrived looking for…

    Read more →

  • The Reader

    Some people are merely reading the chapters of their life as they are exposed, not everyone can be a writer. There is something unsettling about realizing you have been holding the book upside down. You thought the blank pages meant you were supposed to fill them. You thought the pen belonged to you. It never…

    Read more →

  • The Conference Room

    There is no time to sit idle when the world is spinning round and round. She arrived carrying a suitcase, a laptop, and a mind that had no intention of staying where her body had been placed. The hotel lobby buzzed with polished shoes gliding across marble floors, rolling suitcases announcing new arrivals, and conversations…

    Read more →

  • Borrowed Things

    Maybe it is just boredom that has brought me here, tired of human suffering. Not because suffering is unusual. Because it repeats itself with remarkable dedication. I sat watching people today and couldn’t decide what they were actually chasing. A better job. A bigger house. Someone else’s attention. An argument they intended to win before…

    Read more →