Going Home

Her words echoed inside me each time I picked up my tinting brush and helped the dead impersonate the living, if only for a few hours of viewing. By then, my life revolved around impersonation, ...

sweet services

They released a raft with a lone bouquet of flowers, none of them rosemary, none of them the tiny spots of lavender you loved to pick from your backyard to release into my cupped hands, ...

saltwater

It’s been six months since our grounds ran dry. The riddle of where all the water was from was one I stopped trying to solve, but where it's going, though—it’s as if all the world’s forests ...

Karl Khumo Calagan

Selected work