Fiction
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
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
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
Only the Good Parts Left
Angie was the type of car people kept in antique store backyards ‘cause they thought she looked cool, “There ain’t nothing like a Classic Chevy.”
The God in the Attic
In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.
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