Fiction

Short Story

One

I can feel the evening sun, warm on my face, but the chill of the wind coaxes me to pull my coat tighter around me. 

Confessional

The Kiss Was Not For You

I thought of someone else while I kissed my boyfriend. “I did that once,” I said. “Oh no you didn’t.” said Heather. She’s the girl

Poetry

Thunder Polka

The thunder polka of a new romance Began today on my left foot, the one Believed to lead suggestiveness astray. True love’s a waltz: it’s

Poetry

Auto-crimes

She cornered herself against the shoulders of two meeting walls and wrote her screams into the plaster. The sun was a blade against her skin