Stories
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The Vanishing Years – Part 4
Previously on The Vanishing Years … The Lydia Fairfax case had become a media circus with national headlines, cameras everywhere, her family playing their roles for the public. But off-camera, their indifference was unsettling, and the trail of elderly women… Continue reading
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The Beggar’s Cathedral
No one remembered when he arrived. The old man in the tattered robe, barefoot even in frost, appeared one All Souls’ Eve at the edge of the village wood, where the fog hung low and the soil remembered blood. His… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 3
Previously on The Vanishing Years, while the media obsesses over the disappearance of Lydia Fairfax, a darker, quieter pattern was being ignored. Seven elderly women—poor, mostly Black, living alone—had vanished across the city, their cases barely earning a paragraph in… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 2
Previously on The Vanishing Years, when the news breaks that socialite and heiress Lydia Fairfax has gone missing, the newsroom spirals into chaos. Reporters swarm around TVs, hungry for scraps from a police press conference. Assigned to the story, reporter… Continue reading
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Below the Strip
By day, Rico dealt blackjack under the migraine glare of neon. He wore the tuxedo vest, the bow tie, the fake smile. The pit bosses called him “steady hands,” because no matter how many tourists spilled their daiquiris across the… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 1
When socialite Lydia Fairfax vanishes, the city erupts in a frenzy of headlines, search parties, and speculation. But reporter Ethan Cole sees something far stranger simmering beneath the media circus: a string of overlooked disappearances of elderly women no one… Continue reading
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I’ll See Your Sin and Raise You a City
You want to know how Las Vegas came to be? Pull up a chair, ante up, and let me deal you the truth. First, I looked out at that desert: hot, dry, empty. God left it blank, like He was… Continue reading
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The Last Letter of Brother Anselm
From the cell of Brother Anselm, Feast of St. Michael To whomever finds these words, I write by the guttering of a single candle, though I fear light itself has betrayed me. What I saw tonight at the altar cannot… Continue reading
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Closer Than We Think
The letter arrived on a night when the wind clawed at the shutters, and the candlelight trembled. Its parchment was yellowed, its ink uneven, as though it had been written in haste or in a hand not wholly steady. “You… Continue reading
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A Place That Still Exists
Have you ever woken up on another planet? No, not the kind of trip you take with psychedelics. I mean literally opening your eyes one morning and realizing you’re no longer in your own bed, or even your own solar… Continue reading
God Is In The Radio 