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CHAPTER 1: Waking up X awoke to the dull thrum of the city outside his window.Traffic, distant voices, the occasional clatter of something falling—muffled through thin walls, bleeding in like an old radio with bad reception. For a moment, he didn’t know if he was awake or still trapped inside a dream.But the sour stench of sweat and stale linen told him the truth. The weight of his own existence settled like dust on his chest. He didn’t move.Just lay there, staring at the cra

CHAPTER 1 - THE SHADOW HOUR 09:12 The classroom is awake in the way a late morning room wakes. Fluorescents hum. The radiator ticks. Thirty students carry the particular weather of thirty minds. At the front, Ms. Sarah Radic writes on the board in chalk that leaves a soft white grit on her fingers. Macbeth. Act One. Ambition and consequence. She keeps her sentences short today. The room has that restless edge that comes before lunch. Phones sit face down in bags by the door b

Every writer begins a story for a reason, even when they are not fully aware of it. Sometimes the reason hides behind a memory, or an unanswered question, or something that broke inside you long ago but never stopped breathing. The Eye Collector  came from that place in me. I wanted to understand why people fear what they see in others, and even more, what they see in themselves. I wanted to explore the quiet violence of observation, the way we look at each other, how we defi