Fiction

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

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,

Fiction

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.

Short Story

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