A photo diary combining photos, thoughts, excerpts and short fiction by Oliver Dean Spencer. Photo Collaboration with Visual Artist John Naccarato. Updated weekly. Sign up for Spencer’s Newsletter to keep up to date.
Through his bedroom window, he noticed that the night sky had turned a crimson red. The moon, punctured by hues of cerulean blue, hung precariously over the withering willow trees that lined the river’s bank, located several hundred yards away
❧ (Prologue) Call of the Nightingale
❧ Posted: April 07, 2020
He found himself on a rooftop looking down at the mangled hydro wires slicing through the air — creating arbitrary grid patterns.
What he enjoyed most during these times was the sight of the ravens, perched precariously across the wires — balancing themselves like sentinels guarding their unseen riches below.
❧ (The Sentinels) The Spencer Files
❧ Posted: April 02, 2020