Everything we had in the Emirates fit into seventeen cardboard boxes. I rifled through them, pulling my bra from the box marked Important Documents, while vintage Rosenthal china clinked inside Toys. On arrival at the top-rated Airbnb in Sharjah, the… Continue Reading
Poor Cynthia, she didn’t know a thing. She was mad because she spilled her pink coffee all on her shoes, which is why we were at Nordstrom Rack in the first place. Balboa bought her new ones. He was a… Continue Reading
We watch the jellyfish, side by side, our shoulders pressed together. We do not speak. We do not move. The jellyfish bob up and down in their tiny tank, so many of them squished together in such a small space.… Continue Reading
Natalie spun in place beneath the carnival lights. “Isn’t this place great?” She narrowly dodged the other people in line. A few of the adults glared at us. “We’ve been here every day this week,” I said. “Some of us… Continue Reading
The epiphany, that affection in my current relationship is unevenly distributed, struck me at about the I-5/405 split. I felt a shaking to the innermost part of my being although, on reflection, it could also have been that “Cammy,” as… Continue Reading
Summer had faded into fall and your heart was heavy as you planned to wrap the bees up for winter. That’s what you told me. “It feels so good to get out in the fresh air,” you said, “and listen… Continue Reading
The morning begins with thin, honeyed light streaming through the blinds and landing on the small square table by the window. It’s the kind of light that softens everything it touches, a light that forgives. The type of light people… Continue Reading
The kiss was all wrong. Was it the timing? The form? We’d paired our mouths together numerous times, yet something wasn’t quite right here. My face contorts as I pull away from him. “What?” he asks as he studies my… Continue Reading
It’s the day Annie on Stakeholder Pensions retires after fifty years, having started on her fifteenth birthday. It’s a day that promises creamy cakes and cringy speeches, with Annie no doubt waiting until five-thirty before walking out for the final… Continue Reading
I mean, look at me. Jake Dakota. I’m 57. Broke. Jobless. Divorced. For the second time! Kids won’t speak to me, their minds poisoned by the exes. No health insurance. A shitcan car. Me! Voted most likely to succeed, but… Continue Reading