Today, the rain pours so hard the graveyard floods, the ground gives way, and bleached bones and skulls make themselves known—bones from the years the town was...
Judy Fox went first to be fingerprinted. She rolled her fingers and thumb in black ink, the sheriff asking her for the right and left hand and nodding at me to...
Zero was too hungover to take them to the pool, not that he would’ve anyway, so when the oven struck twelve-noon Keats stole a five from the pants crumpled at ...
In March, the owls started walking into our school.
March, April, it was all we talked about.
By May, they were all over town, Barn owls on the roof of e...
On the walk home from the bus, she practices what she will say about her day. There was a pep rally this afternoon. Principal Wheezely Weasley gave a speech I ...
Nearly every time I go home, my dad mentions the knife I gave him. A filet knife given for birthday or Christmas or Father’s Day. I was proud of the gift at th...
The curtains in my room never keep anything out—not the sun's audacity to be shining this bright this early, and not the sounds of the neighbors fighting—again...
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The sideways glance of sun on a sandstone wall deep within a Utah slot canyon, the beam staring at the grooves that striped the lip of the rock face, evidence...
First Interlude: Signposts
I search for the right word and feel the shape of it in my head, in my mouth, but the letters elude me. Sometimes you’ve got to l...
Every weekday, his daughter, Carla, picks him up, and they visit Andrea. Heather View is a handsome stone building, a former vicarage, in the North York Moors. ...
