Grace knew it was inevitable. The second her husband returned home from his deployment, his eyes tired and voice dull, it was clear it was only a matter of time. Joshua spoke then, but his words scarcely reached her. She… Continue Reading
Lunchtime sucked when your best friend was at home sick. Sure, I could hang out with those I labeled ‘school friends,’ but then I’d be the kid who didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the group. As a… 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
Thunder rumbled overhead as Beaumont Whitley sat reclined in his chair, enjoying a pipe and a good book. Glancing up, he noticed a shadowed figure creep past the window. Beaumont closed the novel and set his Meerschaum aside. Would it… Continue Reading
“I’m just saying, it seems fucked up to tell her, she doesn’t even know who he is anymore,” Jenny said. “It’s more fucked up not to tell her,” Susan said. The sisters were continuing the argument they’d been having via… Continue Reading
Swinging Statues was a game our older cousin Ella taught us. “I’ll show you how to play,” she said, gripping us by both hands and spinning us laughing, teetering, dizzily around and around and then letting us go. On the… Continue Reading
When I was a boy, my father showed me a hunting knife that once belonged to my grandfather. The knife was serrated, hefty, meant to saw through muscle and bones. My father told me my grandfather had killed himself with… 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
Ignoring her burning tongue, she sipped her hot coffee. The open window of the coffee shop gave her an unobstructed view of the street. They sat there, across the street—holding hands—out in public—for the world to see, no doubt celebrating.… Continue Reading
“I destroy things.” “Like buildings? Demolition?” he asks. “No; people. I destroy people. Their lives.” “What? Sure. Pretty morbid, man.” “You asked.” I close my eyes and rest my head into the cracked cushions on the Acela train out of… Continue Reading