“They got fucking soft. They used to be metal. Death metal. Here gimme your pen. He takes a napkin and writes a few letters down and he seems to her like a kindergartener practicing the alphabet. “
Published in Hobart in March 2019
No One's Watching
“She hadn’t lived a long life and yet each year that passed forced a universe of change on her. Geraldine was tired of this seemingly unending process of metamorphosis.”
No One’s Watching appeared in Atticus Review in December 2018, placing second in their annual fiction contest judged by Mary Miller.
I Am A Gift
I Am A Gift
“He unwrapped me slowly, as if he was counting one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, all the way up to his forty-six years. The room filled with bergamot and rosemary. His skin turned a shade of blue from the light coming in through the windows, mine lavender. “
Published in Southern Humanities Review Vol 52.1 Spring 2019
"We tried not to look at his chest, and our pharmacy sunglasses camouflaged our gazes. But we all saw the cassowary making its way up his arm. By then it sat right over the crook in his elbow. We were fascinated by its migration and spent hot nights in our pitch-black room guessing its destination."
"Just straighten up the piles she messed and take an old tissue from her pocket to dust off the covers. Take an inventory of all the useless things that could be trashed, hobble back down the ladder and close the door tight."