Six firemen slouch in oily booths, still sooty, roaring behind egg sandwiches. Fists bang, eggs burst and drizzle, and helmets spin around like tortoise shells. They wheeze, laughing, because new guy burned his tongue. “It’s third degree,” he moans, as… Continue Reading
You carry his phone in your pocket. Its weight, the closest you have now to holding his hand. Taking it out, you glance through his pictures, read his texts. The phone is still alive. To shut it down would be… Continue Reading
I understood the swiping, I’m not an idiot. I’d dated my share of guys, but the stakes were so much higher this time around. I would swipe right and as soon as someone else did, we’d be in this thing.… Continue Reading
Mikey sits in the backseat of his father’s T-Bird, smoking a joint. His mohawk, the near-white color of lime sorbet, glows orange briefly in the dark. Earlier today Mikey shoved an older boy up against a locker so hard that… Continue Reading
The earth was flat, and you could commit suicide without worrying about being a nuisance. You could jump right off the edge, not so much dead as gone. No one had to fish out your body. Pat’s mother knocked on… Continue Reading
Her home was not a reflection of herself. Its walls didn’t exude her humor, wit, or pastimes. Shia was the result of a culture she didn’t belong to, its customs rooted in pop culture references and hip-hop. I can remember… Continue Reading
I pull dresses and pants, jackets and blouses from the closet and stuff them into plastic trash bags. Given the pandemic, I couldn’t find a charity to take Pearl’s clothes even though, for all the COVID patients she treated, she… Continue Reading
My sister slices the pie, her lips drawn together in a tight purse, the disapproving grimace of a person performing an unfamiliar task. We sit at the dining room table. I look because I can’t stop myself from staring over… Continue Reading
“What if I cheated on you?” Hattie always came at Tom with wild scenarios: what if you found a prettier girlfriend, what if I cheated on you, what if there’s a nuclear winter and the survival of humanity depends on… Continue Reading
Now for the eyes. They are last and most important. I make portraits, not from life but from my mind, remembrances, faces seen in passing which I bring to the canvas with paint. Once I add the eyes the image… Continue Reading