Before the Hunger: Blood, Salt, Dust

These stories were gathered on walks atop the sidewalks, beneath the trees, during the black stillness of a new moon. Daydreams and dreams alike that called to be stitched together and share their unique foggy glimpses from elsewhere, places too soft to name and too loud to forget. There’s sorrow in these pages. Not just horror, but the kind that lingers quietly when you realize how rare it is for someone to come back. This is a collection shaped by that ache. And by the strange beauty of what remains in the absence. The terror it may bring.