Vacant possession

White balance

A routine drive across a snow-blind Minnesota turns into an existential nightmare when the horizon begins to vanish. For Mitch and Elias, the I-94 isn't just a highway anymore—it’s the edge of a world that is systematically erasing itself. What starts as a tense argument between two weary men ends at a desolate service station near Bemidji, where the laws of nature—and identity—simply cease to apply. In this haunting audio fiction, a cheap plastic "Mood Sasquatch" becomes the only barometer for a reality that no longer exists. As the silence of the North Woods seeps into the car, Mitch realizes that the snow isn't just falling; it’s reclaiming the ground, the signs, and the people. A chilling exploration of isolation, the end of the world, and the terrifying beauty of becoming nothing.

Vacant possession

An unbeatable lease, a spacious house, and a single condition: do not open the door at the end of the hallway. In the midst of a personal rebuild, the rules seem like a small price to pay. But the space is not what it seems. The laws of physics bend, heat vanishes, and silence turns solid. What happens when the void decides it no longer wants to be alone? A story about loss, curiosity, and the price of looking where you shouldn't.

Three Sarahs

Sarah is nearly forty, eight months pregnant, and possesses a body carved in rock that defies sporting regulations. Under the artificial ochre of the competition tan, her silhouette is a biological anomaly that unsettles both the technical jury and her rivals. It is a final performance: a pyrrhic victory where muscle competes with gestation on a stage unequipped to judge exceptions. Behind the noise of the competition lies the asymmetry of a sacrifice shared only in name. While her partner envisions a family from the safety of one who hasn’t surrendered her own skeleton, Sarah carries the weight of a decision made by chance and the genetic trace of a slip-up. Three Sarahs linked by a single name and one question: whether this commitment is love or simply blind loyalty to the wrong fire.

Time-Scarf

An empty window, a poplar trembling without wind, and the trace of a fading presence. In the valley where the spies live, a gaze is a double-edged sword: what begins as curiosity ends as destiny. When the observer becomes the observed, only embers and ashes remain. An audio fiction about solitude, voyeurism, and time coiled around the neck.

The ringing

A dead frequency that never switches off. The echo of a silent city that only a defective ear can decipher. The ringing does not belong to yesterday, nor does it announce what is to come. The ringing is shared presence, the reflection in the glass, and the weight of every breath. The ringing is age. The ringing is now.