Short Fiction and Poetry

You are four thousand feet above sea level and climbing, and breathing in light, mountain air [...]

The people who make your water filters (y’know, the kind that goes under your counter, in the long, blue tube) were pretty unhappy. [...]

I took my kindness to the river and held it under: Felt the flesh of its neck beneath my fingers As it expired [...]

i wish to origami myself into a paper butterfly– smaller, smaller–until i can fit inside the gaps between your ribs

My foot throbbing, unable to walk, I lay on a cot in Emergency.  The light was too dim to read.  I closed my eyes. 

And I remember your painting of cows with blue shadows well ­­- the copy of Dirk Wears White Socks you hid and played

This moon, clinging to a cloudless sky, offers the light by which we love.

“If I told you once, I told you a hundred times, don’t run the Wreckhouse during a storm!” John’s voice roared over the radio. [...]

Available now, the first publication under our new imprint Baxter House Editions--The Places We Haunt by Cecilia Kennedy! [...]

Detective Wolinski slams the phone receiver onto the cradle. A lit Pall Mall balanced on the side of his desk crashes [...]