We don't talk anymore. Whether it's because you're hiking different cliffs followed by almost children, or because I'm too aware of the threat of your sex to what I need most. I don't know. But we don't talk anymore. I admit, I still wonder about the path you stood by and offered to me with … Continue reading We Friends Don’t Talk Anymore
My husband and I live in that ambivalent time of life when you're old enough to do what every other adult does, but young enough to be too poor, and generally forgotten about to do most of it. We live in a college town, which makes it even worse, because not only do all the … Continue reading Frog-Eyed Salad
Of Palest Ebony
Another story idea I played around with for a bit. Probably isn't going to go anywhere. The cell was dark and cool, like a pantry. Unpleasant smells filled it: urine, old body odor, stale food, stale straw—but underneath it all was a tantalizing smell of wet stone and something akin to rain. It was almost … Continue reading Of Palest Ebony
My cat is obsessed with killing a stuffed sheep a friend of mine gave my toddler. Not that the little boy cares if his fluffy sheep gets mauled by a zealous gray kitten, but I'm a little concerned for my friend.
To My Friend Named ‘Death’
Death, You see yourself as empty black stone; a building with no purpose. You claim the ground beneath your feet is thin, with flames beneath the surface. The days gape wide, swallow you whole, for you to past through half-digested out the other side, and you say you can smell the stench of yourself. Death, … Continue reading To My Friend Named ‘Death’