I work a mixture of peat and shredded leaves into the hole, then arrange the bulbs pointy end up before blanketing them with a few inches of dirt. Planting crocuses is supposed to keep me from offing myself in the… Continue Reading
In her English class, Gillian was assigned an ode. She wrote to the jagged Zorro scar above her knee from the August night she taught Benny to surf in the rickety trailer camper their father towed. They’d been banished from… Continue Reading
The little boy was alone, playing Cowboys-and-Indians outside, when the deputies came. He was six years old. He was pretending to be a cowboy, an outlaw, taking life and land from the Indians, from the innocent. The white jeep came… Continue Reading
I can’t explain to you what I see. I don’t know what you see when you close your eyes, but when I close mine I see the same thing as when they’re open. Nothing. I don’t think it’s black, or… Continue Reading
A hand. That is what I remember. Its warmth on my skin. The soft skin hidden within the curve of my thigh. The place I like to fold my own hand at night. It’s cosy there. Warm. Comforting. It feels… Continue Reading
Andrew timed it perfect: he opened the front door just at the moment Mama’s thrown picture frame hit the wall right behind Daddy. Neither of them heard him leave. He learned early to get out unnoticed when he wasn’t the… Continue Reading
Carina, darling, Someday you will want to know why. People will ask you: What was I like? Was I weird? Forgetting that you were only three and cannot be expected to remember your father. I cannot write to you because… Continue Reading
(trigger warning for sexual assault involving children/minors) The ceiling is white, the walls are white, the curtains are white. They swell and recede in unison like lungs. On the breeze, Mina can smell frangipani and chlorine. She is pinned to… Continue Reading
I had my first mystical experience when I was seven. I was at my grandfather’s. We were on the sofa together watching cartoons, when all of a sudden the screen went black. In the cartoon’s place appeared a photo of… Continue Reading
On my twelfth birthday, a puppy drowned in our pool. On that cicada-buzzing Sunday afternoon, I lay on a half-deflated raft, my fingertips skimming the warm water. Thunderclouds pressed down, trapping stagnant, rotten-fish-smelling air. Pinhole rays of sun burst through… Continue Reading