Essays, nonfiction, and short fiction.

Limbo
Summer is brief and oppressive. The ceiling of my barracks room gives the illusion of ventilation with pronounced plastic slits grouped together next to a larger unit, drab gray and ineffective. I have a box fan propped against the screen pointed inward toward my bed, a gentle hum that rolls my green blackout curtains. People around me are convinced winter will be especially harsh this year, but I’m impatient.