Fiction

Short Story

Ride the Peter Pan

There were times when it seemed like all the beauty was sucked out of my life. This was one of them. It was cold and

Fiction

This Place, it Echoes

  My first real breath of air smells of pine and woodsmoke. It comes to me on a cool breeze, mid-afternoon, a sunny day that

Fiction

The Bricks are Shrieking

Cal Jacobs sat in an uncomfortable rolling chair made of plastic and polyester, staring out the tenth floor window of his high-rise.

Fiction

This is What You Do

I stood in my kitchen, hands slightly palsied as I poured myself a glass of water from the sink.

Poetry

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