Below is a peek at the second novel I've been working on. It's speculative fiction that unfolds in the third dimension, though it has it's soirées in  2nd, 4th and 5th. There's even brief ride along a string of photons in 1st.  Things start off fairly mundane, but it gets strange quickly.

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Prologue from 'Braid'

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The young man drags the animal-skin bag down to the shoreline where his brother waits beside a dugout canoe. Together they heave it over the edge and it lands with a thud, something inside shifting against the hide. The brother jumps in and takes a seat at the stern, burying his paddle in the sand to keep the boat from rocking. The young man climbs in and nods.

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They paddle in unison, the canoe darting forward into the dark night.

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The sky is overcast, the moon hidden. Not a pin of starlight can be seen through the deep black canopy. Light shines faintly from a lone lantern illuminating a dock to their right. It fades as they push further out onto open water. Past the breaker, the waves begin to pick up. Nearby, a raft of skiffs sways gently, tethered to their open-sea moorings.

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Younger brother, called Little, and older brother, called Big, have always planned their expeditions for nights like these—the darker the better. They can’t be seen from the shore even by telescope, they think. Their clandestine operation is protected by the black sea; it is their accomplice and their alibi.

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They paddle feverishly, for hours, and then finally come to rest. They’ve made it almost back to their homeland, Orisyn island. Big stops paddling and sets his oar across his lap. From a small bag, he pulls out fruits for the two of them. Their hard work has built up a great appetite. They peel the fruits, tossing the skin overboard. The rinds drift like tiny sails floating on the calm surface and then are gobbled up and spit back out by curious fish.

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Big stands on the canoe, scans the water left to right, then turns and looks behind him before retrieving a pair of binoculars stored below his seat to look more closely.

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Big’s body suddenly becomes turgid, struck by fear. His breath comes in short bursts. The binoculars shake in his hands. His panic has nowhere to go but into his muscles—an electric shock paralyzing him. He lets go of the binoculars and they swing from their strap around his neck. He gathers his long hair into a top bun and ties it tight. The veins at the sides of his forehead bulge below his shaved skin. His upper body is rigid as a board, his forearms ready to snap the oar into splinters. He stands in all his brawniness, only the small leather pouch covering his groin.

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Big looks at his brother, shouting between heavy grunts. Little grabs him tightly by the wrists commanding him to lower his voice. Big forces a quieter tone. He can’t see the buoy—the marker for their secrete dumping zone. Has it floated away? Or is it just too dark tonight? he asks himself. It should be right here, a hundred meters offshore near the giant palm tree.    

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While Big continues his unraveling, Little searches for the buoy himself. He paddles forward, squinting to see in the dim light given off by a shard of moon that’s cracked through the night clouds. He stops the boat and paddles at starboard, sending the boat in a clockwise rotation to scan the waters around them. In the distance there is motion – bobbing spheres that dance in sparkles above the surface. He pulls closer and sees more clearly the bundle of floating coconuts covered in glowing seaweed - the dumping zone. This is where they had discovered the hole months ago.

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Little jabs his brother in the back with his oar. Turning, Big finally sees the coconuts and deeply exhales, his shoulders slumping in relief. Mamawei watches over us. Praise our Sky-Mother! Big cries.

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They draw alongside the coconuts and lash the skiff to the anchor line.  They both gathers rocks from the hull and feed them into the animal skin bag. When the bag is full, Little pulls an object from his pouch. It pulses with light as he brings it to his mouth, turning bright blue when it touches his lips, all the while releasing a low hum. Dropping the object into the bag, they flatten it to remove any air, tying the ends tight.

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Little jumps into the water holding the line tethered to the ocean floor as Big pushes the weighted bag over the edge of the canoe. Little then begins his long descent into the abyss guiding the bag towards the hole. At the seabed he pushes the bag towards the others that are anchored to the floor. With a rope he pulls from his waistband, he squeezes the bag into the hole. He makes sure to rise slowly to avoid the Bone Bubbles.

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The hole is nearly closed now. They’ve been feeding it for almost three months now. A few more bags and it will be completely plugged.

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Little pulls himself up into the canoe and grabs his oar. Big spreads seaweed atop the coconuts to keep them hidden. The site secured, they paddle away.

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“We’re almost there. Maybe two more trips, three the most,” Little speaks, clicking. He says it in a matter-of-fact way – one which his brother is confused by. Big is skeptical of the entire operation and fearful of their own safety, but he trusts his brother’s intuition. He’s everything his brother is not.  Big doesn’t mind though, he’s taken orders from his younger brother, six minutes his junior, his entire life. It just gives him less to worry about.

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“Our work is done for the evening,” Little says, leaving a final statement for him and his brother to chew on – “Remember, if we don’t feed the hole, it’ll feed on us.”

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March 14, 2026

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