I’m sitting in the kitchen feeding my youngest daughter. There are crumbs under my feet and a counter full of dirty dishes behind me. We...

My wife and I, we tend the horses of the west wind. When the breeze is warm and gentle and makes the grass on the clifftop ripple, we...

“Whaddya do with dead roses anyway?” He said, leaning on the counter, his cigarette bobbing at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t smoke in...

This story was inspired by the linked tumblr post and my recent spate of going to real estate websites and mooning over homes I can’t...