Short Fiction and Poetry

“It’s just chocolate; it’s not love.” I feel their eyes upon me as I slide the last of the chocolate bar into my mouth, [...]

can I find where I used to be, again, where I partly grew up and carried my books and clip board and pens in my blue knapsack? [...]

it was the middle of winter but that word didn’t mean anything anymore apart from a grey amnesia of cold [...]

I got out of the car when my sister and her man did, and he clapped his greedy hands. [...]

When he got mad Suddenly and completely We are worthless [...]

THERE WAS SUNLIGHT AND THERE WERE TREES. There was a lake and then there was she. Swimming, the water- so warm and so black [...]

The evening had unfolded on an unusually bright note: the last vestige of vernal sunlight finally peeked through [...]

Outside, summer is dying into fall, and blue daddy petunias sprout ears— hear the beginning of night chills. [...]

Outside the diner at 385 Sixth Avenue, humanity ebbed and flowed. It would often take a brief pause to eat, then continue on [...]

If they're posed as reverent, the strong lack any strength. But in the final days they're the same as ever. [...]