CJ Thorpe

In the bleak wilderness of Death Row, this desolate desert of despair we find ourselves in, each of us are pushed to the precipice of existence. For me, the grim specters of death looms large, crushing me tighter than any chain

A mirror reveals the truth. But what happens when that mirror shatters? That's the tragedy of Arcadia, isn’t it? But it’s also the tragedy of John Willis. I remember the song and dance of Zeus' Flying Circus. I remember Willis himself, a mirror catching

I never thought my life would be defined by chains, you know? But here I am, slathered in chains far more profound than any physical restraint. They say I broke the chain with Meadows, that beating him was the start of

The laugh. It was all the coyote could hear. This coyote was born in a concrete jungle, tethered to a cold, rusting chain. Now this chain, it wasn't like any old chain. It was alive, almost. Slithering and constricting, feeding off the coyote's

Every soul in Arcadia has a story to tell, a price they've paid just to keep on breathing. Take, for instance, two animals tangled in the web of survival: a street rat and a scavenger bird. The street rat, a sneaky little

When I was a kid, my granddaddy used to take me hunting. I didn’t want to go, but he’d drag me deep into the bush. One day, we were out tracking a coyote. Golden fur, he was a great catch. We chased him into

When I was coming up, we didn’t have shit. So when the dinner plate was empty, my pops would gather us around for story time. My fave was the one about pigs. Most people think pigs are foul creatures, living in slop and