Short Story
Acceptable Forms of Agony
It was during my third year of teaching the saints at Holy Trinity that the burning began.
Wolf Facts
If there were any justice in the world, I would have been born a wolf. Instead, I’m a seventh grader.
Spring Migration
Lori was in real, actual danger, but it was easy to convince herself she was not.
The Third Root
As the dentist works, her giant belly touches my arm and my head, and I think the baby kicks me.
The Five-Year Plan
The family in my novel is like this arowana. Born to hurt things. They are hunters, even when there is nothing left to hunt.
Searching La-La Land
La-la land, she called it, that place her daughter went that she would never go.
Blue
My mother isn’t dead. I know this the way I know that squares are also rectangles, and that the sun is also a star.
Dead Jasmine
On the anniversary of his death, I put a stem of jasmine in a glass vase on the windowsill. The flower’s fragrance a bridge between this world and the next.
twisty little passages
You walk to the house. The door blocks you from going farther.