A collection of interrelated stories that explores the human journey from isolation, grief, and darkness to connection, healing, and light.
The Light We Share: A Book of Stories exists somewhere between a novella and a collection of short stories. The book explores themes of family, grief, passion, mental health, connection, and healing.
While each of the ten stories contains its own narrative, they are interrelated and occur chronologically within a larger plot.
This project is a love letter to my passion for writing. Three drafts, hundreds of hours, and seven years later, I'm proud to finally share this story with the world.
This book contains themes and events that may be triggering for some readers. Please click here for the list of sensitive content (beware: spoilers ahead).
"There was no music rising from violin strings or lifting from the keys of a piano, but I could hear the beautiful symphony that rose around me all the same. When I first sat down in the back of the subway car, there was only silence. The doors closed and the train jolted forward, plummeting us into a lightless tunnel. I looked out the dark window, and my reflection stared back at me. In the mirrored image I could see others sitting quietly in their seats and balancing against the walls, looking at their phones or staring absently at the floor. No one was speaking. No one was moving. And that’s when I started to hear the music." -Intermission
"Her eyes were amber whiskey and yellow flames combined—though one warmed his insides and the other his skin, her gaze had done both at the same time." -Invisible Man
"She had always kept her appearance clean and neat, but Henry had never seen her more beautiful than in that moment. Natural-faced, thin pieces of hair falling across her cheek and collarbones, mouth parted slightly. Like the baby that slept on her bosom, the morning light seemed to breathe against her skin. Henry rarely cried those days, but he cried then, awestruck by the beauty and fragility of realizing that his whole reason for living was lying on the bed in front of him." -Lost Moments
"By the time I’m done speaking there is nothing left in hiding. All of my darkness, and all of his—it has become the same thing." -The Light We Share