This story started as a dream about events that happened before this story takes place, but when I sat down to write it out, I found myself writing this story instead. I think it's better this way.


( It was sunny and warm, the day the fire started. )

It's taken me two years to be able to write this poem, and I think it's achieved its purpose: driving in the last nail in the coffin so that I can finally move on with my life.



( A Eulogy for Yvonne )

An ode written to my city. Not my favourite place, but certainly not my least favourite, and I've got some memories here that still make me smile.



( Queen City )

A short story inspired by somewhat of a theological discussion.



( The Serpent's Gift )

Scribbled on a sheet of note paper during one particularly boring Government class.



( c.o.n.d.e.m.n.a.t.i.o.n )

I wrote this AGES ago, but it's still one of my favourites. The story was inspired by this picture and just sort of wrote itself out from there. I'm really quite proud of this piece, so I hope you enjoy it.



( Of Robots and Friends )