Fiction

Short Story

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

Short Story

For Matthew

Today I am thinking of you and Michigan. Remember how back in the day I didn’t drink coffee? Well, I still don’t care for it

Short Story

A Beggar’s Opera House

  She was suspicious that everyone in the room was melting. The man sitting at the coffee table directly in her line of sight was

Fiction

What I Can No Longer See

“I’m thankful I’m not a horse,” Marla says, as she reaches for the saltine sleeve inside her tote bag.

Poetry

Opposable

How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely