Somewhere between sculpting spray and shampoo, he blips onto my radar. Shiny white hair like a quartz stone. A shabby olive cardigan and standard brown grandpa slacks. In a breath, he levels up from another faceless shadow in the background… Continue Reading
“There it is!” I pointed and Elsie wriggled back into me. We splashed our feet, soaking the hems of our dresses, giggling and pretend-squirming away. But then we dipped our toes back in, waiting to see it again: slimy skin,… Continue Reading
Louisa was washing her hands after spreading yards of mulch when she noticed it: the diamond in her wedding ring was gone. Why hadn’t she taken it off first, or worn gloves? The jeweler eyed the ring’s fractured prong. “Was… Continue Reading
When doctors deliver bad news, they travel in packs. They sweep into the ward, in groups of three or four, to relay test results, to tell you that your course of treatment has been unsuccessful, that some measure of you… Continue Reading
Bake a loaf of bread for your father, for your mother. If you create enough silent acts, you’ll keep yourself from screaming. Wash the dishes fold the laundry feed the chickens mow the grass plow the barely-thawed soil dig your… Continue Reading
“Uh, I’m not supposed to have people over when Mom isn’t home,” Callum said as Ashlyn pushed past him and climbed the steps to his back door. His stomach clenched at the thought of breaking one of Mom’s rules already,… Continue Reading
Two raindrops race down the glass. I watch, silently calling their progress like it’s the Preakness. The man across from me waxes faux-poetic about my shape, my skin, my eyes. I don’t have words, they’re swallowed by his voice before… Continue Reading
Maria stood in the driveway of her tiny home, a sturdy, red-handled broom in hand. A storm had passed through. Brown spotted leaves, pine needles, the lost blooms of pink impatiens and assorted scatterlings were before her in random piles,… Continue Reading
The overcoat immediately draws your attention. It is bright green like a tropical parrot. The coat extends from the soles of Ella Blunstein’s shoes to the hull of her prickly chin, topped by a faux mink collar. She wears a… Continue Reading
Her last name escapes me. Milagros something from the depths of Guatemala. She sits on a metal folding chair, shoveling plastic spoonfuls of rice and beans from a paper plate on her lap into the mouths of her two pre-schoolers.… Continue Reading