Fiction
Girls
You tell her you love her the day she graduates. It’s a carefree spring morning, the perfect kind for the endurance training you sometimes did—
Wednesday
It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting
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.
When You Grow Up
I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart
Outwitting Mom’s Cable Company
The day after my mother’s funeral I called Comcast to cancel her cable TV account. A recorded message led me through a series of
Godland: Sammie Jo
Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as