Fiction
Black Shrunken Blemish
When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt
Ca’Venezia: Your Voice
Your voice alights on my armhair, a whiff of cigar smoke— caramel, and ghostly— “Cities die; let them.” Black thing to say. I patter
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.”
A New World
While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a
Early Morning Ramblings of a Twenty-Something Girl
A dream of a 1920s quasi-candid shot of Debby Harry, mingling graciously among a grandiose Studio 54 scene. Spray the lens of my life with
A Draft of the Worst Love Letter Ever Written
A Draft of the Worst Love Letter Ever Written Dearest Stacie, Dear Stacie, My Dear Fri, June 16th, 2014 Stacie, Well hello! Greetings from