After sunset, and a dead boy sat in a wicker chair on the porch of his mama’s home. Seeing the … More
Tag: fiction
Tart Apples
A moon swayed lightly in the sky. The slug slimed its way up and over the steps until it reached a … More
Mama Stops the Hourglass
Riding into town, I look at the rearview mirror, see my daughter in the back, bouncing with the bumps on … More
A Stream of Consciousness about Brussels and Being Home
What this guy sees is smoke and he hears noise like screaming. He’s on the ground, he’s at an airport, … More
Warm Winter, Sun Worshiper
Among the days which scatter across the week, I keep going back to an image in my head. Not sure … More
The Phones
The smell of gunpowder makes its way into my nose. God. You’d think a cop wouldn’t mind the smell. Might … More
The Day Moon Before Allhallowtide
The early morning stirs its way into the dawn’s dark sky. And the evening moon, which became the night moon, … More
The Farmer, the Skeleton
The window over the sink, the one with a late-day sun coloring the kitchen. Through it, the farmer watched the … More
Face to Carve
A colossal pumpkin in my arms, I stumbled into the house. Kicking toy cars, small, discarded shoes out of my path. … More
Mom at the Apple Tree
Pooka sits on my chest as if she were a mother hen. I think she thinks, My girl is warm. … More