Fiction

Fiction

Dreamless Nightmare

  I have not always had my medication to protect me from epilepsy, to keep my hand steady while I handled boiling grease and kitchen

Poetry

Lascaux is Burning

The first art Was not art, Rather, a color line shot through the dark, No more expression Than a plea for explanation. The grandest monuments

Short Story

Paper Boat

Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace,

Short Story

Tallahassee Route

It never occurred to me how messy I can look. It’s almost finals week. I’ve been wearing my friend’s navy hoodie with noticeable white writing