code

June 17, 2026 – 6:56 am

Bright. Condensation rising off the lake. More bird activity than normal. Blackbirds, beaks stuffed with grass and sticks, fly into the cedars. All around, increased chatter, as a dark sky pans in from the north.

This is why I’m here.

Morning traffic roars. This isn’t the isolation I crave. Distractions are real. Capable of derailment. I need space away from people. Tucked into the woods or on a hill overlooking water nobody else sees. I just want to write—not be constantly reminded of how shitty we are—to one another, the world, and its creatures.

We’ve gotten this far.

Working—a career they call it—to elevate our comfort. Provide safety. Give the kids solid footing and means. All of this is fine, it’s what I do, but now I need to dig deeper so I can climb.

We have small wins.

Fiction Attic Press (glow), jmww (Inheritance), The MacGuffin (Killdeer) all set. Others will land as well. Been sharpening observations and improving structure and layers with poetry. An odd way to get better at writing bigger ones. My words are getting shorter. I feel I’m crafting code.

Now though, darkness to the north has given way to blue-gray clouds. The water is still. Blackbirds are in the trees, talking just outside the open window.

~ KJ