Meat for Skritches
Tyler was watching a sitcom in the trailer’s breakfast nook, petting the purring furnace that was Skritches in his lap, when the power went out for good . . .
Writing
Alpaca Lips
This drabble is a little horror show. I wrote it because well, darkness, and also I can’t help myself with Dad joke caliber wordplay. It’s a compulsion, and sometimes if you’re note careful compulsions can be kindapocalyptic. Check it out here.