I’m a photographer, self-taught to be exact. At the moment, I’m working in my dark room to develop some pictures for my portfolio. The pictures are resting in trays filled with chemicals – one a mixture, another acetic acid, and the last with ammonium thiosulfate. That’s one thing that I learned about photography. You have to wait. You have to be patient. I have a confession to make. I don’t like showing people my work. I know that sounds ridiculous. What kind of photographer doesn’t want to show the world his work? Isn’t that the point of photography – to catch a moment in time and share it? Well, I’m just embarrassed. You see, I don’t like rejection. Not after…

It was just a normal day, except that’s what I thought… I was wrong. On February 24, 2024, I learned the truth, what goes on in this little town, Blue Springs, Missouri. It was about 5 days before my family and I were gonna leave to go on a trip up to Chicago, but some strange things started to happen…It’s hard to explain. I mean it’s not normal what happened to me, not at all. It was almost like I got a sense someone or something was watching me from afar, but it wasn’t comforting, you know? It was like that thing had the intention of hurting me and my family, god how I hated  that feeling. So it’s about…

Sarah rolled over, glancing at the digital clock resting on her nightstand. She groaned when she saw the green numbers read 2:59 am. As she started to roll over again, a flash of lightning lit up her room and she froze. Her eyes darted to her bedroom window where she thought she had seen a dark figure climbing in, until another flash of lightning proves there’s nothing there. Sarah sighed and rolled over, mumbling to herself. She closed her eyes, drifting back into peaceful slumber. Sarah’s mom knocked on the door before stepping into Sarah’s room. “Sarah, come on. Get up. We’re spending the day with the new neighbors today, remember?” She shook Sarah lightly. “Yeah mom. I’m up.” She…

Do you ever watch other people in the subway? It’s so strange to have to ignore someone who’s right up there in your face. A can of sardines springs to mind, except passengers aren’t joined by a bond of thick oil or brine. Instead, they’re stewing in a miasma of sweat, cologne and annoyance. Everybody absorbed in their own little worlds, warm little cocoons. There, whizzing through the bowels of the city at a brisk clip, you’ll find people reading books, newspapers. Maybe on a Playstation Portable. Maybe on a smartphone. Except me. I’ll always be looking through the thick glass windows at the flickering blackness just beyond. Sometimes, late at night, I hope I’ll get on the same train…