I thought I’d make a blog post to give a general status/life update, but the main thing I want to do is advertise a new short story I’ve written, available now. This is my first experiment with publishing something I could, conceivably, receive financial compensation for.
Continue readingAuthor Archives: crosstowngate
Pot of Bones
(excerpt from a half-remembered dream)
Said the Stranger: “Here we are making the Stew of the Ideal World.” And as he spoke a parade of men emerged from the mist of the woods. They came in twos and threes, they came by the dozen, they came by the hundreds.
Continue readingClose Encounters of the Fey Kind
I was but a wee tot when I first watched Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Less than ten, I believe.
I don’t remember much of that first viewing, and what I do remember has been jumbled up and confused with a lifetime of parody and homage. I don’t think I was much taken by the film – my mind already polluted by George Lucas and his own brand of aliens and starships.
Continue readingJustice Sat Beneath the Tree of Fire
Justice sat beneath the Tree of Fire and contemplated existence. Each leaf upon the tree was living tissue paper, so thin and delicate that the merest concentration or focus of the sun’s rays was enough to conflagrate the wispy leaves, turning them to brilliant ash.
Continue readingMetatext and Playdead’s INSIDE
I recently played the 2016 video game INSIDE and, after finishing, immediately scoured the internet for answers. What I found was mostly disappointing. So here are my thoughts!
WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW
Continue readingWhen the moon fell to earth
When the moon fell to earth many were surprised to find it no bigger than a garbage truck. It rotated slowly over Manhattan, emitting a dull, ominous hum, occasionally pausing over Central Park, or Fifth Avenue, seemingly intent on touring the entire city.
Continue readingVillage Daughter: Cup of Tea
Isa Kudo stood in the medicine hut and fumed. She had been called before Otako, great Medium of the village, who spoke for Artart.
Continue readingSidd’arak Learns to Breathe
One morning, as he sunned himself on his favourite rock, occasionally snapping at the bugs as they crawled along the roots of the mangrove trees, Sidd’arak realized that he was terribly, deathly bored.
Continue readingVillage Daughter
The people of the village often called Isa ‘willful’ and she took this as a mark of pride. To be willful was to be strong. But the villagers also meant it as a small jab towards Isa’s father, it was their way of suggesting he had been lax with her discipline.
Continue readingThe Waves
“When I was a child,” the Knight began, “that is—I used to live on an island, by the shore. Whenever a storm came, the ocean would churn and crash against the seawall, and from my tower, I would stare out the window and watch the waves come in. I remember—there was this old man, a crabber, who lived alone by the sea. Whenever a storm rolled in, which was often, he would go out to greet it.
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Crosstown Gate 
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