Today was the Fourth of July. Again. With picnics and band music in the park. Dancing in the gazebo. Firecrackers. Watermelon and cherry pie, Families and friends with clothing stained red. I’m smiling, nursing memories, swaying with the music. “Beautiful,… Continue Reading
Show and tell at school was lame. Stamps and coins. Post cards and match book covers. Fred’s squashed frog. Even Bobby’s tarantula in a plastic cube. So I set out to find something worth talking about. I decided to collect… Continue Reading
“Learn to do something with those fat fingers, Marcia,” my mother urged. “Go to business school. Learn typing. Accounting.” My older sister, Laura, had studied piano. Impromptu recitals for family and friends the norm. “Such a talent, your sister Laura.”… Continue Reading
“I said it was aliens from space what took her.” Detective Southby looked away as if I had said something really stupid. He stuck his spiral notebook and pen in his coat pocket. The blackened circle of grass centered in… Continue Reading
The damn wind, it never stops. Nor the heat. A dust devil skips across the parking lot as a lone boy wanders around the back of the café, between the cars — some parked, others abandoned — calling for his… Continue Reading
The room is dark, nearly black. There ‘s no electricity. The sound of sex from the next room overrides the breathy silence of bodies passed out around me. I try to keep warm, snuggling with my friend, Alicia. We share… Continue Reading
You ignore the NO PARKING sign and drive our aging mini-van behind the dumpster swelling with trash. “Wait here,” you tell me, like I have somewhere to go. You limp toward the motel office. Your ankle’s stiff from the drive.… Continue Reading
She sits naked on the floor of her hospital room, knees drawn to her chin, rocking back and forth. Her hospital gown, shredded. Fingertips, red and bleeding from stuffing bits of cloth into imaginary holes in the walls. The door… Continue Reading
I sneak down the stairs and hope she’s passed out in her chair. She awakens in a coughing fit and glares at me. “Get me a beer, girl.” My name is Jenni. She hates me. Calls me “girl.” Whips me… Continue Reading
Jack Coggins is skitzing into his thirty-sixth hour without sleep, fried on crank, driving the Escalade he stole in Texarkana, driving hard, driving himself harder. The last twelve hours fit his mind like mismatched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle stomped… Continue Reading