Short Fiction and Poetry

We worked in two rows. Our father dug up spuds in dress trousers, the big yellow tubers encrusted with bog navy earth surrounding him [...]

cotton candy and carnival rides, stretched across the boardwalk tides [...]

“What’s for Dinner, Mom?” Sweat dripped from my bangs, like little streams of salt water dripping from a pier after high tide [...]

While at the day care lady’s picking up my daughter after work, one of the moms, Kathy, is telling us about an accident [...]

The township employee mowed the grass that grew so high that neighbors complained about it even while they had ignored the cries [..]

Deep below the lake’s murky surface, there sits—intact—a house. A two-story structure of Carpenter Gothic details like elaborate wood [...]

We sketch our realities with great Care, filling in details that are perpetually Smudged out [...]

My granddaughter is very gifted already, but in a very strange way…[...]

On the map, now, if you can find it, south of Ypres, it’s Sint-Elooi [...]

If you feed them, they will come. It’s true for birds, squirrels, stray cats, sharks, and, if you consider the average church picnic [...]