This morning I scrubbed the apartment more thoroughly than was necessary considering I’d declined all visitors, both the well- and ill-wishing kind. I ignored the phone. The battery will be dead in a few hours and I’m considering letting it… Continue Reading
The autumn’s morning fog has thinned to steam by the time Roland Adder’s rusted-out-red pick-up reaches the grove’s edge, dilapidated horse trailer in tow. Beneath swaying skeleton-finger branches, maple and oak leaves crackle under his bowlegged gait as he plods… Continue Reading
Why isn’t he here yet? Amber wondered as she stood in their meeting place. She could feel a soft breeze gliding through the stalks of corn, lightly touching her face, and gently lifting the brown fedora that she wore. Amber’s… Continue Reading
The seven of us stood there with a dumbstruck look on each of our faces. As we watched, sticky with sweat and tacky popsicle juice, the dust cleared enough to reveal a shoddy white sign that read: “WELCOME TO HOG… Continue Reading
You are a version of a person that you cannot remember, a translation of a translation of a translation. You are staring at an email instead of reading it, but it doesn’t matter because you already know what it says.… Continue Reading
A few weeks after my grandmother’s death, her quilt began crawling from her bed in the early hours and roaming downstairs. You’d hear the rustle as it went past the door, and in the morning find it curled somewhere, like… Continue Reading
The cat is squalling again, the thin sound just human enough to trigger my maternal alarm. I’m halfway out of bed before I remember there’s no crying child in the next room; no one here but me and the mouser.… Continue Reading