Book one of my post-apocalyptic trilogy is done. Looking for a copy editor who works with indie authors. Literary thriller, around 80k words. If that’s you or you know someone, drop it below.
Some nights I dream I’m my hero.
Then I wonder about my villain. Not whether he’s a monster. Whether he was patient. Whether he stood in line behind you once, nodding along, counting the exits.
What if he’d won the first night instead?
https://t.co/rXE1Slu0Bl
Nobody respects a retail worker until they don’t get their way. Wrote a short piece about Franklin, the Monday before everything changes. A complaint about Christmas displays. A finger in his chest. This is his last year and nobody knows it.
https://t.co/5J9uoc8T4K
They move behind the row of shopping carts lashed together, plastic straps, belts, extension cords, forming a crude battering ram. One pushes from the side, two brace from behind, the fourth steering the line straight at the doors. There's nothing desperate in it.