Category Archives: Dayle

Wander West, Young Man

Moving across the country inspires a certain kind of madness, notably different than fleeing over an ocean for exploits requiring little more than two suitcases, a camera and a backpack. After more than a year of wistful gazes towards the sunset, I had finally left

Twisted Days

9:32 am It was a grey-green Thursday and I awoke to the sound of banging, like the crackle of a wrench on sewer pipe. Knowing every common sound of the house, from breaking glass and bottle cap pops to short-lived lovemaking and slamming doors, the