There’s this ball, pink-seamed and spinning fast, its coordinates locked on the northern perimeter of my left eye socket. All the proof I need that God hates me. No surprise, as my earthly father was never that fond of me… Continue Reading
The people in charge seat me under some bright lights and put my painting on an easel. I meet Sebastian, an art expert, and my heart starts knocking. I’m thrilled to be chosen, to have something so special. That is,… Continue Reading
(content warning: rape) I close my eyes and the quiet, black space around me is filled with you. Do you think of me too? I wonder if you do. Wonder if that night is still carved into your wrists, wriggling… Continue Reading
Steeled for another Friday night gig behind the club’s horseshoe bar, Carol fashions fruit garnishes as DJ Danny and his tattoos play the usual songs. Between lemon twists and orange peels, familiar faces order a beer, a punch board, or… Continue Reading
In my memory, my dad and I stand in the detached garage of that old farmhouse, the faded green one at the end of the long lane that runs past Woods Camp and the football field. The door is open,… Continue Reading
Jazzy had first learned English by reading and her vocabulary could sound strange to my American ears. Words like suitor, betrothal, nuptials. But when Jazzy meant love, that was the word she used. As in her final message, just before… Continue Reading
It didn’t snow this year, but it doesn’t matter. Mrs White (née Flynn) doesn’t like the snow anyway. It makes her joints flare up and she’s turning seventy next year, you know. She doesn’t need the bother. And anyway, the… Continue Reading
I “We get in, get the tree, get out,” says Dad. “Got it?”Football begins in less than two hours; my family is on the clock. II Marc points out that Christmas trees do not grow in Bethlehem. It would be… Continue Reading
“Grandma, did your son die?” I gasp at my six-year-old’s innocent question to my mom. We are outside on the patio, enjoying pasta salad and barbecue, lost in mundane conversation about swimming lessons and arranging who will pick up the… Continue Reading
The man did not speak. He beckoned me to follow him with a hand sheathed in a greasy, surgical glove. I had never seen an auto mechanic wearing latex gloves so I asked him, “Is that the thing, nowadays?” I… Continue Reading