Writing

Fiction |

“How They Died”

“Those years of bitterness and rage began with a hairline fracture in her tailbone. Until then, she had been known as a cheerful person; afterwards … whenever someone asked her how she was doing she would furiously reply: ‘My ass hurts!’”

Fiction |

“we buried mom in the cocktail shaker”

“We certainly weren’t going to shell out for a casket. Don’t pay good money for that shit, she would have said. So, while Mom shook down to ash, I looked for urns between crying shifts.”

Fiction |

“Fingered”

“Katie’s pretty bossy for someone whose mom still braids her hair, and Lauren is trying to look cool, so we’re doing what Katie wants to do, which is … playing ‘Never Have I Ever’ …”

Fiction |

“What Things Will Do To Survive”

“None of the four other single male passengers complain that the journey was supposed to end in Fort Bragg eight miles up the road. I don’t want to be that guy because you know.”

Poetry |

“Ditch”

Fiction |

“I Have All Your Children” and “The Warmth and I”

“I should have never walked through your town, but I heard your church bells, the calls of your men. It had been lonely at the shore. I wanted touch. I did not want children.”