Fiction
In the Round Pen
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on this moment. How do I feel? What am I seeing? What am I hearing? Him.
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Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of
All Noon at the Bank D’Amemzionne
Mister Pope stood in line at the Bank D’Amemzionne, where he’d come to make his regular cash withdrawal to cover the upcoming week’s expenses. Getting
Secondary Colors
June 1st Julia is dreaming. She’s always dreaming. Frothy ocean waves roll over her fingers as they sink into the sand, lifting her up into
You Look Just Like Your Sister
The red door to my home opened and the fresh smell of warm turkey and cranberry sauce collided with my senses the way Sticky
Home No More
I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet