The first time I opened a door and it really stunned me I was nine years old. I had just woken up from a nightmare where I had died three times, in three different ways – knotted ropes, deep waters, falling from skyscrapers. When I staggered to my parents’ room to find some comfort, I … Continue reading Doors


In the middle of the night, the men in the blue helmets broke into Nikolai Ivanovich Komarov's house and arrested him for using the wrong words. As Nikolai’s wife Daria clutched his arm and whispered to him in Russian, her honey-brown eyes glinting with fear and worry, Nikolai asked the men what he had said … Continue reading Arrest

Though The Witches Are All Hung

June 26th, 1977 The red brick obscenity rose up seven stories against the feverish New York City skyline. Dilapidation was the apartment’s principle character, though beneath the grime and squalor a strange dignity remained; hinting at the structure’s queer tenacity, its utter unwillingness to yield wholly to the ravages of time. Built in the style … Continue reading Though The Witches Are All Hung