Monday, May 8, 2017


It been a little over a week since IKEA, and still Sep hadn’t made his way back to the rainbow. Something about the darkness of the IKEA had made him believe that he was braver than he really was, that he could side step the fear of returning to the day when he had by accident slipped in the pool of blood, before everything had been perfect like it was now.  

He told himself that when he left the house that evening, that he was going to the rainbow, and yet, there he was, driving listlessly through the town, wondering why he couldn’t bring himself to return.

The sky grew dark, and his eyes strained to focus on the road ahead.

Just then his headlights illuminated something, no, someone as they crossed in front of his car. Sep skidded, and the someone seemed to skid with him, their body floating up as he screeched to a halt.

Frantically, he rushed out of the car, he keys still dangling and swaying in the ignition from the force of the stop.

There, just under the wide breadth of of white light from his car lay Chambly, the quiet girl from Winthrop Place.

His first thought: dead people don’t look like they’re sleeping. Her eyes were open and glassy and her face was smeared with the blood that ran–

The blood.

There it was: his second coherent thought. He was standing in a pool of blood. Just as afraid as he had been the first time over a year ago. Except this time, he was the murderer. The blood was smeared on the soles of his shoes, but it was on his hands too, because he had killed her.

He stood there numbly as other cars stopped and sirens came wailing. Only then, when he was surrounded by the onlookers and the police, could he think a third thought. He had barely known her. The girl in the muddy blood streaked pajama pants, was only a name to him. She was only Chambly, and yet he was sure that she was so much more. So much more than the body that lay at his feet, so much more than the 2 syllables he hiccuped when the police asked him her identity. So much more, he was sure.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017


Sep was in IKEA. Big surprise there, Sep LOVED IKEA. The allure of the doorknob sale was too enticing to resist, and so he found himself wandering the aisles. Something, (although he would never admit it to Leek), he tended to do when he was anxious. So, a week after he had discovered the window to the past, Sep was in IKEA, looking at doorknobs, pathetically. 
Then, rather unexpectedly, the light faded from the room and a clear voice sounded from someplace in the rafters, echoing through aisles of diapers, canned food, and tomato sauces. It instructed Sep, and the other IKEA shoppers to make there way to the area by the cashiers. “There,” it said, “we will find out the true murderer.” Sep found himself heading there falling in line with cues of other shoppers, propelled by something that felt a lot like fear. Yes, that’s what is was, fear. It was fear that seized his body when he had recognized last year's scene scene last week through the rainbow, and it was fear now that was making his hands sweat and his feet itch, feeling slightly swollen in their sneakers as they moved him towards the group of people gathering by the registers.  
Sep recognized almost all of the tenants from the building. There were Chambly, Sail, Beck, and many others, and from the expressions of their faces, Sep could tell they were just as nervous as he was. Soon, the voice sounded again, accusing them all of being murders if they did not begin to investigate and search for the real one. “They are among us,” it claimed persistently. He gulped. Now that he knew about how to return to that day, Sep felt like he had this weird responsibility to find out who it was and clear all these innocent people’s names. 
Just then, the light blinked back on. Sep felt his pupils contracting painfully as he stared up at the ceiling. Those around him did the same, some cheering as the door burst open and the police swarmed in. 
Now Sep had to figure out if he could work up the courage to return to that time traveling rainbow. Because if he could, and if he could keep his fear at bay long enough, Sep was sure he could find the culprit.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017


Next Blog
Blue iris blossoms, to match blue walls, and blue, blue skies. Sep felt a smile tickling at his lips. Without a doubt he was glad it was spring. With spring came memories of quitting his state farm job interning at the Rachael Heights academy as a teacher, with it came the memory of telling Leek everything he felt, and surprisingly, having everything returned. But most importantly, with spring came the farmer’s market every saturday, came violently green trees, hunched for with the weight of their new buds, their leaves.

It was on a morning such as this saturday one, when everything about spring was so apparent. He walked along the edge of the pond, shoes toeing the water as he briskly made his way to the weekly market. If Sep’s ears hadn’t been listening to every slow wishing of the water of the smooth pebbles on the shore, he may not have turned his head when he first heard the faint gurgling. But he did.

Arching tall above his head, reaching determinedly for the clouds stretched a brilliant rainbow. Sep blinked. Unlike rainbows made by soft falling light, this one shone brightly. It was almost like it was solid. Sep hesitated. The urgency of the farmer’s market dimmed, as the rainbow filled his vision. He stepped into the pond, murky water swirling as he made his way towards the beam of light.

He reached out and snatched it almost expecting the light to pass through his fingers, but it didn’t, it was solid. From the moment Sep’s fingers touched the rainbow, the world shifted. Blue skys turned gary, the people clustered around the tents disappeared. The air chilled. Sep clicked his phone and gasped. The date on his phone read the same day when he had found the pool of blood, over a year ago. He clutched the rainbow again, and suddenly everything in the world was right. The color of the sky faded back in, and he could hear the chattering of the farmer’s market goers. He had been transported back to the past.

Taking constant steps,
Moving forward. But more than
Thoughts fling us backwards

Monday, January 23, 2017

“Hallå. Kan jag hjälpa dig?”

“Hallå. Kan jag hjälpa dig?”
Sep’s mother stared back at the swedish speaking IKEA employee. Her perfectly combed hair, lightly lip-glossed lips and muted blue sweater, summed up everything about her: she was completely and utterly normal.

Sep grinned at his brother, Jonathan, from behind her back. His family had been here for three days now. They always visited right after Christmas, when the bustle of the season had quieted down. This year, being it was his first year owning his own apartment, Sep got to host.

He and Jonathan had been cracking up practically the entire time. From their parent’s reactions to the miscellaneous ice skates at the pond, and the abandoned building across towns, to this-the bafflement at the foreign IKEA cashiers.

“We’ll take these.” Sep said, keeping the laugh out his voice as he moved through the checkout. He would’ve thought he would be more nervous with his parents coming but he wasn’t, it was his apartment, his town. His town. He liked that. It finally felt like his place. He gotten used to the strange sights in the streets, and besides, he felt home enough now that he had friends: Leek, some of the people from his building.

“Adjö!” Sep called to the woman as they walked out.

“Adjö!” Jonathan chorused with him.

Their parents were silent.

It had been enough for them that their son was living in a strange town, but now he was speaking a foreign language?

Sep could see his mother shaking her head slightly, but he knew she’d come around to it eventually, she always did. He wasn’t worried.

They were silent for a little while on the walk back, but it was a nice silence. The kind that made Sep appreciate the way the trees looked in the soft streetlamp lamp, and how his parents walked close to each other, their arms gently bumping.

When the reached the empty basketball court, the very one and same that Sep played at every tuesday, he saw a basketball, probably abandoned by some kid, sitting in the bushes.

“Hey Dad? Mom? What do you think-can Jonathan and I still take you down?” That got his parents smiling. After a few casual banters, the teams  (Mom/Dad and Jonathan/Sep) stood ready.
“Home team starts of,” Sep said. And so they played.