Last night I went down to the lake but the sky was what I really went for, so last night I went down to the sky, the white beach all ice ledges, traps everywhere, and you could still feel the violence in the layer of flat-line navy beneath the gigantic sky boiling purple, with thin strands of night and white stars like sparks of misplaced ice and it was no sky for an atheist because you could practically see God up there.

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Image credit:Greg Rakozy
Sherry Cassells
Sherry Cassells

I write mostly short stories, the kind I long for but can rarely find. Some have been published here and there in journals, literary presses, anthologies. Also, and this is where I get rich, a new website called litbit.ca