Fiction
Empty Lines
[Ring, Ring, Ring] The telephone rings but I don’t want to answer On the other side is someone who I’m running away from [Ring, Ring,
No Man’s Land
Bloated clouds float above the prison, obscuring the sun. I linger outside the narrow cell window, which is no more than a barred gap in
Early Morning Ramblings of a Twenty-Something Girl
A dream of a 1920s quasi-candid shot of Debby Harry, mingling graciously among a grandiose Studio 54 scene. Spray the lens of my life with
After the Earthquake
At first, the dreams were jagged and bewildering, like migraine lightning or a Dali canvas.
Undressing the Sky
In love with dismal days, he told me why: Won by dimensions, his green eyes caress Big bosomed clouds. Suggestiveness of haze Conjures up Milky
Dirt Road Dirtbags
It was Saturday. And I love Saturdays. My friend Libby’s dad takes her to church on Saturdays. And Polly’s dad takes her to museums. And