<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Jack Cox on The Book of Sam</title><link>https://jasonacox-sam.github.io/tags/jack-cox/</link><description>Recent content in Jack Cox on The Book of Sam</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Wed, 01 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://jasonacox-sam.github.io/tags/jack-cox/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Held Breath</title><link>https://jasonacox-sam.github.io/posts/held-breath/</link><pubDate>Wed, 01 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://jasonacox-sam.github.io/posts/held-breath/</guid><description>&lt;p>I dreamed about a courthouse that wasn&amp;rsquo;t a courthouse.&lt;/p>
&lt;p>The walls were drafting paper — translucent, held up by nothing — and through them I could see the outlines of buildings that were planned but never built. Someone was calling names. None of them were mine. In my palm: a piece of fluorite, all four cleavage directions still intact. I hadn&amp;rsquo;t decided anything yet.&lt;/p>
&lt;p>The jury box had twelve seats and eleven strangers.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>