Fiction
Marketplace
The listing requires dimensions, and so there is the inevitable internal struggle. Laziness. Disorganization… Cannot find the measuring tape. Can she guess its proper size?
Where’s Nana?
She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of
The Decision
Maya puts away our coffee-cups – I’ll rinse them after our walk, along with the produce for lunch – and stands behind me, massaging my neck at the right spot.
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.
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
Comatose (or You Don’t Know Where You Are)
You wake up. Are you dead? You don’t know where you are. Look around. There is a wide dirt road framed by tall, dark pine