This is the complete collection of Onyx Neon Shorts stories from 2014, plus three poems by Seattle-based poet Nikolus Cook,… Read more »
Books. They have weight. They have soul. They transport data from author to reader, slowly. They can even burn. But they can’t generate revenue in the suggestive ad market. What good is a object when it can’t embed the desire for a fish sandwich directly into the psyche of the user. No good at all. The book must die.
Aaron M. Wilson explores the last book store in the world.