Expurgated Editions: Final Pilot Story

“The radiant current, creations yet uncreated? You feel it?” Azru asked once, as she rested her hand on the child’s head while they looked out upon a foggy morn. A cool wind coursed over the bogs and tousled their hair. “That is magic, my dear one. You have the Gift.

Autism: Stories, Storytellers, and the Sia Mess

Let the record note that up until the current clusterfuck, I generally thought of Sia as a cool musician whose work I just didn’t feel pulled towards. (Content Warnings: mentions of ableism, eugenics, and negative stereotypes about autistic people) Let the record further note that I’m going to refer to my feelings a lot during […]