Writing

Fiction |

from Vienna 

“I was forty-one years old, wore a hijab, and looked stylish in it. I spoke French, but I didn’t apply for a visa to a country that spoke the language I’d learned, because I found something vastly more entertaining here.”

Essay |

“Before I Let You Go”

“One year, my class, known as problematic for being easily distracted and causing disruptions that made us hard to teach, wasn’t assigned a homeroom teacher hired to break us. Mr. Lovette, that teacher, lacked bulk and a bulldog face.”

Fiction |

“More Harm Than Good” and “Late August Edition”

“My roommate’s dissertation included a multimodal component where I was asked to pee on an upholstered wing chair. Even after a quart of Hawaiian Punch I was unable to perform.”

Essay |

“I Found A Tarantula”

“As Dylan writes in the prose poem ‘Ape on Sunday’ — ‘tho I might be nothing but a butter sculptor, i refuse to go on working with the idea of your praising as my reward — like what are your credentials anyway?'”