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Storyteller in orbit, panning for gold clusters of creativity. New book: “Wearing Her Footsteps” https://amzn.to/2LPSidr

a collection of short stories, poems, and memoirs

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I’m excited to announce the release of my first book, Wearing Her Footsteps.

It’s a collection of short stories, poems, and memoirs… arranged by theme, and accompanied by my own photography. As always, the hope is to try to create an experience you haven’t had before. Buy or download a copy here:

“Wearing Her Footsteps” (Paperback)

“Wearing Her Footsteps” (Digital)

This book has been in the works for well over a year, and has finally become a reality, thanks to all you amazing readers and writers. Many of the stories originally appeared here on Medium, and it was your feedback that helped me develop the idea for how…


Spring 2021 Update

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Dear Writers and Readers,

As many of you know, the house that Medium built has been undergoing a lot of changes. During the last few months, we’ve found it has become harder to maintain the experience we want people to connect with. But with each new spring comes growth… and change.

We’re excited to announce that Chance Encounters is moving to Substack!

This new home enables us to finally welcome ALL writers and visual artists who have stories to tell… and better reward our community. …


I watch you fade from an old backdrop as the others fall asleep in a black and white world. They cannot see you as I do. You are the elusive rainbow that spreads outside our realm. I can comprehend only part of you, in my own way.

Despite how quickly the love came, I could never feel you as a whole. You are the evolving sum of more parts than I could ever live. When I first encountered you, I should have been able to recognize that reality. I couldn’t move at your pace. …


a future narrative

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Stigmatic fevers ignite the bodies of pretense, moving across the shadows of discontent. I pause to dip my face in the chill… committed to recovering alongside you. We are, after all, common strangers, unable to speak the language of the night. Our fractured vision of identity is rooted in a null reality… but our spirits do not unravel. We are never far from the sounds of laughter that unite us.

The winter will continue in waves and leave us less dreams on the streets. But believe me — we are more than the faces of marred men and worn…

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