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

Poetry

Ghost Hunting

I’m hunting for ghosts,In alleys lit by memories,Phantoms of yesterday,Carved out of my mind.What I once held,You me and our dreams,Scraped knees and screeching swings,Pokémon

Short Story

The Solution

  I talk to myself. I have to. No one else will listen. No one else understands. Even if they did, I wouldn’t dare expose

Fiction

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.”

Fiction

After the Earthquake

At first, the dreams were jagged and bewildering, like migraine lightning or a Dali canvas.

Memoirs

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