After midnight, still eighty-eight degrees and humid, we pulled bikes from the garage of our rental house and headed out, wheels spinning down the same tree-lined avenues we rode when Jeannie and I were twenty. In those dog days of… Continue Reading
Isla paints her nails, one finger at a time, each a vibrant petal of pink, coral, or peach. It’s a contrast to her skin, the color of a dull stem. Her veins, blue surface roots sprouting on her arms, pallid… Continue Reading
There were nights I climbed out on the fire escape and listened to the voices above. I should’ve been doing my homework, because I’d be stuck in the sixth grade for another year, but Dad had just left for work… Continue Reading
You probably don’t remember. In fact, I doubt anyone remembers. Maybe that dog of yours that Dad found huddled in a Coca-Cola crate behind Steve’s filling station off Highway 83 just south of Thedford. I always did like that dog,… Continue Reading
I. In Edinburgh the bagpipes are for tourists. I’m sorry but it’s true. I don’t mean to be a snob. But in Stirling they’re more genuine. They roll over the floodplains and you never see who’s playing them. You can… Continue Reading
Dawn broke over the cracked windows of the Pi Iota Gamma fraternity. The living area was strewn with red Solo cups, pizza boxes, overturned kegs, and the general detritus of a weekend rager. This metaphorical pigsty was given more literal… Continue Reading
The sun was too bright and the sky was too blue. My eyes had nothing to hold on to as we scrabbled along the cliff’s path. You walked faster than me, as though your exertion would make the ordeal more… Continue Reading
My grandmother’s house was full of clocks. They were never wound properly, their haphazard ticking all over the place — a cacophony of irregular mechanical heartbeats — so at any given moment one of them was busy striking or chiming,… Continue Reading
My mentor Tila and I swam side by side, laughing and whistling, enjoying the serenity of the water, until she brought up something serious, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about. “Tell me what happened,” she said. “The… Continue Reading
At Rodor’s signal, the executioner swung his axe. It cut through flesh and bone and buried in the wooden block with a vibrating thunk. The sorcerer’s head landed in the dirty street. Rodor gestured with one meaty hand for guards… Continue Reading