Bad Time Time Capsule is an unfinished novel. Started in the summer of 2018, and worked periodically until early Fall of 2019. It tells the story of Anika and Paf, two individuals forced to work together to steal emotion and meaning from the past.

At least 1/3 of then novel was written to correspond with five paintings done by a friend.

Today the doors are sulking. Opalescence on a dark brooding darkness. They are like the word subtle, not just in meaning, but in the deceptiveness of its pronunciation and spelling. I've got a key just for the word subtle but I don't really use it much anyway. Wish I did.

Dormant doors.

I could stare at them for hours in their inactivity.

Most days each door is like a different person. Today, they collectively look like the spectrum of somebody's bad mood. A sulky disposition stretched across their five frames, broken up only by the distances between each door. When the station opens, all five will spring to life and look like what you might imagine a portal should look like. But they're so interesting to look at before the day starts, or at the end of the day after the station has closed. I love it when they're this way, when they're collective in their imagery. I think it creeps people out because it looks like some kind of living consciousness is in the room, the visual incarnation of a thought that slowly drifts from one person's mind into another's. Anyway, it doesn't happen much. Catching a thunderstorm in the middle of the night.