Before I became a giraffe I was a twelve-year-old girl. I had long brown hair, brown eyes, and a burgeoning mustache I shaved weekly with a disposable razor I stole from my dad. I was the type of girl my… Continue Reading
— trigger warning for statutory rape, ephebophilia, sexual predator — Facts may appear solid. Jane knew they mattered, especially since she made her living as a lawyer. History happened, just as stone transmuted into sand, and memories drifted like the… Continue Reading
My sister Bailey’s breathing is steady at night. I wait for it to change from shallow to the deep breaths of full R.E.M. She sleeps on her side. Her shoulder forms the smoky mountains sloping gently under the sheet. The… Continue Reading
She always thought of brown sugar when her feet sank just an inch or so into warm, slightly damp sand. This sand, this beach was no different. He had asked her to go for a walk and her parents had… Continue Reading
The plot against old Jacobson was our first deliberate undertaking since school had been let out. We were wild, but not nearly as bad or tough as we considered ourselves. We relished anything fun, dangerous, and slightly illegal. Sean’s grudge… Continue Reading
The young adult protagonist sat patiently in front of her bedroom mirror, waiting for the author to write her. As she brushed her long brown hair, she stared critically at her reflection. She thought of herself as quite plain, although… Continue Reading
Pili sips from her water bottle when the familiar tingling begins. Through the wire cage, she sees Manuel curled up on his bed, looking more like a baby than a sixteen-year-old. He’s come home early from soccer practice because he’s… Continue Reading
The tribe of youths began to run. Alan was their leader. He ran ahead, but not so fast that he was more than a hand’s reach in front of Ian. Ian who had to prove himself. Ian who had to… Continue Reading
The boy sneaks past the bathroom, opens the door to his sister’s room, and slips his thin frame through. From her closet he retrieves a dress, a flowery, colorful affair. He leaves, closes the door silently, tiptoes back into his… Continue Reading
Bob bent down on one knee and popped the tops on the last two cans of paint. He flipped the lids of “Royal Lavender” onto the canvas drop cloth and stared at a muddled mess of grey and white satin.… Continue Reading