Vapid Wasteland Hibachi & Grill
At a cheap Los Angeles hibachi chain, an onion volcano blooms wrong and turns dinner into intake. What follows is a glossy descent through appetite, memory, and the commercial machinery of reinvention.
We Don’t Heal All At Once, We Echo
A mysterious church in Echo Park offers no salvation, only recognition. Faced with a congregation of the lost and a preacher who speaks in their own voice, one visitor must decide whether remembering is its own kind of mercy.
Control Subject 516
When a state-sanctioned soulmate system activates and everyone around her is violently pulled into their assigned future, one woman is left untouched. What begins as isolation soon reveals itself as something worse: she was never meant to be matched, only watched.
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.
Red Velvet / Holds Shape
After giving away the red velvet couch she shared with her ex, a woman finds that the breakup hasn’t left with it. As Los Angeles begins to pulse with haunted signals, queer longing, and objects soaked in old ache, she realizes some things don’t hold memories, they transmit them.
A Signal Ghost
A sound engineer with a gift for tuning emotion into music is pulled into a charged reunion with the ex who taught her how easily connection can become manipulation. Beneath the noise of Los Angeles, their unfinished history begins to echo through the crowd.
Tier 2: Glitchgirl Core
After being upgraded into a hyper-curated Tier 1 society, a woman discovers that every trend, voice, and identity has been stolen from the people below her. Instead of playing the role she was finally given, she rewrites the system from the inside until it starts to break.
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.”