To set the tone, I’ve provided a playlist. Press play on the album below to start some music that I think will fit while reading my stories. Enjoy!

I use my Instagram account to tell more than just a visual image. If I find something interesting, I’ll take a picture. Sometimes hours, days, weeks or years later I will return to that image and write how I feel at that particular moment. I like space stuff. Deal with it.


  • "Cage" #StuckAtHome48
  • "Autumn Mist" #StuckAtHome48
  • "Median" #StuckAtHome48
  • "Jo Jo Black" #StuckAtHome48
  • My Dearest love, I write to you while still aboard the Star Freighter Gemini II. There's not much to say right now except that I've been thinking about you and the kids a lot more than usual. Is he liking his new school? Has she taken her first steps? Oh, how I wish I could be there to give them a hug right now. They have me placed in a small container on the far end of the ship. But, fear not, I'm not alone as you may think. There's a cute little bug that comes and goes through the vents. He's pink on the topside and his side hind legs have small black dots. He likes to walk around the Extraction Light and I'd like to think he's just saying hello. A few circles, and just like that, he just scuttles away. The light dims every now and then, and I pray the power holds out because right now... That little light above me? Brings me hope. Hope that I can get out of here to see my loves again soon.  xoxo /JC
  • "It's coming for you. It's coming for us all!" says a successful patron. Christian holds out his hands. The faucet cries out a steady stream that gently warms the underskin of his wrist moving it's way through the ridges. A blinking display reads; "PURGE Success. Please detract valve." A red warning light intensifies as the seconds tick by. Christian leans his elbow on the lever and narrowly manages to shut off the pressure relief valve. A sigh of relief spans across the on-lookers that have passed before him. The engines now pulse to the dull yet familiar roar. The display now reads: "NEXT Purge: t-minus 7 Minutes"
  • Jane covered the last of the rice in a delicate foil container and placed it on the bulkhead counter. She looked up and for a brief moment witnessing something serene and beautiful. A pure, wonderful and bright light ascended upwards to the proverbial gates above. Her gaze returned to the bowl as she attempted to count the tiny grains in order to pass the time. But she knew that was something she could never do. Because In her heart... and in the hearts of many others, that number was truly infinite.
  • Bor Otsir Crashed landed his ship in the Emas Forest. An abandoned derelict ship rests nearby. Stripping the parts, he will fly again. They is.
  • 2020.
  • Like a fresh cover of snow, the earth revolves around the sun churning the sparks of its core. May your course be true and its fuel push you beyond the heaven's horizon.
  • Twelve years running. John plotted the all too familiar course true to perfect form as if the text books on Daymar had wrote it's own declaration of best practices and perfect navigational charts to the heavens themselves. Last coordinate set. Ready to punch it. John pulls his hand back from the thruster and takes a moment to reflect on the first voyage many years ago. He smiles at his decision to plot a course due north that beautiful starday.
  • Roloff raises his standard issue pistol and points it directly at Captain James's head. "What are the codes?" he asks. James refuses to respond as he adjusts the uncomfortable restraining necklace and returns the glare. Roloff presses on, "For almost 5 years you have led this crew to our deaths. Why? To what end!?" The space storm ahead intensifies as the ship begins to rattle and violently shake. "What are the codes!?" Still silent. Roloff then takes out a small controller from his utility belt and powers it on. The necklace around james neck lights up with a red blinking flash. "Last time. What are the abort codes?" James looks at Roloff, scoffs and reaches into his top pocket and pulls out a small rolled up piece of paper. "Why'd it take you so long to ask? The helm is yours."
  • We enjoy the finer things. Fresh strawberries, Florida blueberries straight from the Bush, a juicy burger with all the fixings. A soft persimmon perched high above perfectly ripened in the perfect sun bathed summer days just before falling to the forest floor. Not too sweet, not too tart. In the morning, three strips of bacon with scrambled eggs with the perfect coffee to creme to sugar ratio that sends chills down your spine. A refreshingly chilled beer on the hottest day of the year. All wonderful. Except, I'm just a fish swimming in the ocean.
  • Fran opened her eyes and wiped the dried up tears from the corners of her eyes. She sits up and attempts to tame the headache that follows. She finds herself alone in the main cabin covered in a white blanket with the opposite end stained with dried blood. The life support console blinks true reminiscing a perfect heart beat as she remembers the night before. Reality sinks as she peers to the far end of the bed. A foot other than her own hangs beyond the cover. It lays motionless, pale, and void of a pulse as she slowly pulls away the cover of truth.
  • "Crick" was nominated for 11 awards, and we walked away with 5. 🏆 Best Adherence to Genre 🏆 Best Cinematography 🏆 Best Original Score 🏆 Audience Award group A 🏆 1st Runner Up Best Film (also nominated for best use of prop, best use of character, best costumes, best actor, best actress, best sound design, top 10) "Crick" (director's cut)
  • Jardren gazed through the observation deck portal only to be awestruck by the passing atmospheric clouds. He could feel the oxygen rich particles burn his eyes even with the protective shield that swarmed the outer hull of the freighter but the anticipation of the ground assault ripped through his nerves begging for carnage, yet propelled his wits into a tactically precise assault on this seemingly docile world. It's only a matter of when...
  • My master took me for a walk tonight.
  • Our sci-fi film, "The Will" ended up winning 7 awards including Best Film and Best Directing at this years Austin 48 Hour Film Project. We were up for 16 nominations total! We won: 🏆 BEST FILM 🏆 BEST DIRECTING 🏆 BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY 🏆 BEST ACTRESS 🏆 BEST USE OF ORIGINAL MUSIC 🏆 BEST SET DESIGN 🏆 BEST SOUND DESIGN We were also nominated for: Best Editing, Best Special Effects, Best Titling, Best Musical Score, Best Visual Effects, Best Acting Ensemble, Best Use of Genre, Best Use of Dialog, & Best Use of Prop. #48hourfilmproject #atxfilmmaking
  • Janis peered around the corner as cautiously as her wits allowed. "20? 20 meters! Just 20? That's nothing!", she assured herself. A massive spotlight lit up the control room just outside the aft window & she quickly ducked behind the adjacent wall. Her heart skipped a few beats as she controlled herself back to plan. A few more seconds & the power will re-route back to the core. A small bot across the hall selfishly beeps announcing it is ready to take the next command. She signals the bot and it bolts down the corridor. A red glow breaches the room with an explosive crash of fire and debris as an overwhelming barrage of plasma annihilates her robot to bits. She's made it beyond the halfway point and dialed in like second nature. Innate within. She closes her eyes and dashes forward accepting her fate. Above the burning corridor in a sealed room, the commander watches the young pilot push through with ease and deactivates the test core. "She's ready sir. The command is hers to give."
  • A dream to fly amongst the stars. To set course in hopes of a new planetary discovery. Immortalized forever in a bronze sculpture for all future generations to aspire and admire... Nei. Rick causally kicks off the main thruster burn with his teeth riddled pencil and offhandedly ignites the engines to 25 percent power. A glare from the sun bursts through main viewfinder and he disgruntledly fastened the blinders to their closed position. He leans back within his chair and closes his eyes listening willingly to the steady hum of the bulkheads as they rattle against the storage racks filled with empty power cells. Toxic cells in which can only be destroyed by launching them into a dreamy, beautiful and shiny star.

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