Everybody has a backstory. I know because I dole them out for a living. I borrow pieces of lives from people I know and combine them with kernels from my mind to make characters for my stories. My current story,… Continue Reading
I want to swim in the ocean with her. But I can’t. She’s sitting in my lap scrolling through the images of her mother and me. The computer screen is a useless time machine that can’t change the past. The… Continue Reading
The sign above the door read, “The Pierotta sisters. Psychic readings. Achieve wealth, love, and happiness! Walk-ins welcome.” Archie wasn’t sure if he believed in psychics, but he was feeling desperate. He’d been demoted at work. His girlfriend Eliza was… Continue Reading
I found a sort of skull in the garden. You did? Let me see. I didn’t bring it inside. It’s a skull. Well, what kind of animal is it from? I don’t know. Do I look like a zoologist? All… Continue Reading
On the morning of her fortieth birthday, Lena took literal steps to reclaim her life. The weather had just begun to take notice of autumn, and a crisp breeze blew gray remnants of yesterday’s storms so that the sky was… 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
Paris is a city of many things — lights, sounds, whispers… and cats. Cats haunt modern Paris like fur-clad ghosts — whiskered faces through window panes, gray mousers plying their trade in alleyways, rooftop cats and cats who sleep and… Continue Reading
We could see straight down to the bottom of the Guadalupe river that day. There were turtles, minnows, and rocks covered in algae. We walked along the banks, scoping out the perfect spot to sit and pretend we were carefree.… Continue Reading
My world is a gun pressed against my forehead. The pressure is committed, lethal. My reality is details: Nickel plated precision cocooned by knuckles tattooed with H A T E. A bare arm with ropey muscles writhing under tattoos and… Continue Reading
I discovered the critique group online and decided to go because I wanted to share my stories with people who understood things like writing and moonlight. I’d been looking forward to it all week, although the prospect of reading my… Continue Reading