“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
“Emma, no!” she gasped, her own voice awakening her. Not again. Usually the Ambien knocked her out enough to escape this recurring nightmare, but tonight her sister had invaded even her pink pill dreams. Avery pulled off her eye mask… Continue Reading
Beth fingered the fresh bruises that ringed her neck. The pain, which responded to each prod, was soothing in its reliability. “What was different about yesterday, Beth?” asked the doctor sitting in the vinyl-covered visitor’s chair that faced her bed.… Continue Reading
We’re loaded down with tampons and pads, and Mom’s heading straight for the cute checker’s lane. Seriously? I’d die if I had to stand there while he rung us out. It’s obvious, right? I totally get it, she’s distracted, sad… Continue Reading
My uncle lived in the warehouse district of Toledo, not far from a Pizza Papalis and a Blarney Irish Pub. He didn’t work, lived on government checks and “gifts” from my parents. My father blamed his unemployment on a “poor… Continue Reading