A Few Short Words

Dense Not Thick




Vignettes at the intersection of poetry and prose, the first collection of Hundreds is one hundred stories written in exactly one hundred words and accompanied by one hundred images. Connections exist between them all, they can be found or discarded as you please, but the links aren’t as imperative as the instances depicted, and won’t please any sensible chronology. Otherwise, just enjoy the moments.

Hundreds vol.1 is available now.


I threw all of your things out like so much good trash. I went out and put it all in the garbage, stared at the recycling bin and shrugged, saying, ‘Sometimes there’s nothing to be done, buddy,’ before walking back inside. All I kept was one lousy photo, it’s not even of you, just some trees you can’t much see and a hazy sunset that means nothing to me. I put it in a box of forgettables, one day I might look at it and remember you, it happens, but it won’t feel like anything, not even a waste.


There’s one shot in the Parisian metro where she’s trying not to smile. It’s silent beauty composed through bearing and spoken by the eye, known but not tamed, lucid but aloof, like a corset on a cloud. Only, that doesn’t sell the elegance of the moment. She looks at me through time and space and all of the humanities. She sees a world where I am nothing and I am everything. I am always present in each of my absences, an unseen object become subject. There’s one inescapable moment where I look and long. In it, I am there.

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