Lecturer by day, pony word peddler by night.
Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists.
I've roasted a wealth of exotic things, All torn to ribbons at the hands of kings. Polished copper how I proudly shone, stealin' the fire of the blazing sun.
If you happen to cry, I will be there. If you happen to smile, will you do the same for me?
I don't write, so much as I perform acts of high-wire fiction without a net. Come watch me fall! I believe in narrative coincidence, the transcendent power of hopeful creativity, and the Oxford Comma.
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow will be dying."