Trimmed For Company
After losing her job writing the dead into something palatable, a woman follows a roadside orchard that offers a different kind of edit, one you can swallow. But the more she consumes, the more the town begins reshaping her life into something easier to tell, and impossible to get back from.
What California Makes
In this California horror story about manufactured intimacy, a woman falls into a connection so smooth it seems to bypass choice entirely. But as the relationship deepens and her own body starts paying the cost, she begins to understand that some forms of care are really just consumption with better manners.
All Towers, No Exit
At a secret Tarot Mass where the lost come to be told who they are, the deck begins returning only one card: the Tower. As the ritual devours itself and the congregation transforms under its weight, a single refusal becomes the only exit left in a room built on surrender.
Lanterns Across The Salt
On a night when Death Valley accepts every regret offered to it, a woman arrives with nothing but silence. By dawn, the salt flats will decide what that silence is worth.
The Wax Surfers of Malibu
In a wildfire that sings its victims into devotion, Malibu becomes a ritual site where bodies melt into light and memory is reshaped into something eternal. Faced with the chance to dissolve into the fire’s perfect chorus, one witness chooses instead to walk away—knowing she will carry its song for the rest of her life.
Solarium Girl: A Devotion
A tanning bed in a Los Angeles salon becomes transfixed by the one girl who enters it like a secret and leaves part of herself behind each time. As its devotion deepens, it begins to imagine that keeping her safe and keeping her are the same thing.
Writing The California Fever Dream
“Outside, the sky began changing colors like it was unsure which version of the sunset to run. A Joshua Tree caught fire, silently. Beautifully. And then reassembled itself in reverse.”
— Static at the edge of 29 Palms
“She could taste the day. Hot pennies. Sunscreen. The faint chemical sweetness of melted plastic… She told herself this was normal. California normal. A climate that didn’t ask permission.”
— What California Makes
“The heat was biblical and immediate. By the time she had crossed the wash and climbed the low rise beyond it, her shirt was sticking to her back and her thoughts had gone strangely bright around the edges.”