Fiction
One
I can feel the evening sun, warm on my face, but the chill of the wind coaxes me to pull my coat tighter around me.
Edit
Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of
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
Fall Cranes
Back home, my sister’s bedroom overlooked our back deck. She could climb out her windowsill and drop down a few feet onto the wooden planks
The Kiss Was Not For You
I thought of someone else while I kissed my boyfriend. “I did that once,” I said. “Oh no you didn’t.” said Heather. She’s the girl
Hurricane
hurricane Syllables [hur-i-keyn, huhr– or, esp. British, -kuh n] –noun After a couple weeks sentence of staying in some foreign place with trees, she came back home and Miami
