MY WRITING
"A Jagged Disgusting Thing/The Second Coming"
A roughly 4300 word speculative fiction short story about a teenage Ojibwe woman from Manitoba whose brothers are replaced by a hole.
I told my younger brother about it afterwards. He laughed and said, oh, dude, she was telling you that’s love.
I never took what he said very seriously, but I liked to humor him. I could never trip him up, either. He always had an answer. Love for what?
He shrugged. For the sun, for the drug, for the girl. For the way you knew the river ice would crack soon. For the way sadness feels when you finally part ways with it.
That was the way the hole made me feel in the years following everyone else’s disappearance. Like it was Canadian winter all year long and the hole was the only sun in the world.
"What Comes After Hallelujah"
A roughly 30000 word unfinished Disco Elysium fanfiction from the perspective of Ruby the Instigator, directly post-canon, exploring her relationship with Klassje, the ravers in the old Dolorian church, the voices in her head, the Hardie Boys, dyke bar text adventures... and, of course, her escape.
SOLA, THE ANTI-INNOCENCE - Her silver, disco-dancer jumpsuit glints blindingly. “I know you resent me, for keeping what I know from you. To be the anti-innocence isn’t *flattery* from the masses.” Her smile is slight and wry, thin lipped. “Oh, I’m sure you wish I were your Dolores Dei, sweetheart. Your past and your future, to open the pale to Elysium. Sing the magpie song. But I wasn’t, and we both knew I would never be. The future wasn’t mine to give.”
LEVERAGE - This is it. She’s done: speech over, rule over, game over. The people are held captive by the crinkle at the corners of her eyes and the sharp cut of blond hair against her thin back, the humanity behind her distance. They couldn’t protest to her resignation if they *tried.*
PARAPHRENIA [Godly: Success] - You know, I don't think Sola was blond.
Read on AO3 here
"On Trajectory"
A roughly 1300 word sci-fi short story about the birth of a planet, the birth of life, and then the death of both.
The viscous magma on the surface is agitated by strong electromagnetic currents and age-old Coriolis effect.
Over millennia, this agitation becomes more profound, devolving into entropy. Not an entropy of cold, dispersed energy but of disorder and chaos. Chaos theory would allow us to unpack the centuries and centuries of minute fluid variation that leads to the crushing waves of magma the world sees. The magma sees only its trajectory.
