Kyle Crane; Flares

The Harran evening sky, backed by a mountain. A flare arches across the purple and blue sky.
Kyle Crane standing in front of a neon SAFE sign, a flare gun held high as he fires it.
Kyle Crane, Commissioned from Martina Belli

Did you break but never mend?
Did it hurt so much~
  you thought it was the end?

Lose your heart, but don’t know when~
And no one cares,
    there’s no one there~

But did you see the flares in the sky?
Were you blinded by the light?
Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?

Did you see the sparks filled with hope?
    You are not alone~
‘Cause someone’s out there,
     sending out flares~

Kyle Crane, the man who saved my life.

Kyle Crane looking to the sky

I’ve been looking for an artist to bring this to life for me for years. Then @drawinglinestoconstellations happened. And I found peace. 


I am way too excited about those two dorks meeting.

A man barged in.

While the door had slid open with a quiet hiss, the man who stalked through had a look about him that said he’d have rather thrown it open. With a bang.

He was tall, had wide shoulders and long legs, and came dressed in streetwear thrown together from high-top sneakers, jeans, and a white linen shirt. Nothing on him wasn’t in one way or the other crumpled, from the bunched up folds on his jeans to the scrunched up bandana sitting snug against the sides of his head. Black hair grew in a thick bushel down the middle of his skull and was only partially kept in check by the turquoise bandana. The rest was in wild disarray and did its best to cover up the implant extension sitting above his right brow; the sort you got when you didn’t want more wires and chips crammed into your brainpan. It was arranged in three small triangles fitted against each other in a neat row.

Sophya noticed all of that because the man stared at her with an intensity that convinced her she’d suddenly gotten smaller. A lot smaller.

Fear ballooned in her chest.

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