The refineries at night look like a sprawling space station repair base, flares aglow against a dark sky full of choked out stars, tanks full of liquids I can n...
The bubbles surfaced before the bus arrived every morning. Marissa stood by the kettle pond, peering into the leaf-choked water. A pitch pine had snapped halfwa...
I’m about to climb up into the goddamn freezer when a guy in a faded suit jacket leans over and grabs the last tub of Americone Dream from the top shelf. The fr...
Jeremiah is buying a last-minute birthday gift for his daughter Opal. The name has always seemed hippyish to him, something that his white wife Gina must’ve rea...
I release my bike from the darkness of the shed and climb onto the cool seat, soaking in the new spring sun for a moment before I start pedaling. My skin is ele...
A black tile T stretches across the floor of the hotel pool. Last time I saw tiles like that I was six and convinced they were hammerhead sharks. But then I had...
A girl and a woman approach each other on the street going the opposite direction.
The girl is 15, maybe 16. The woman is three times her age, maybe more.
...
The birds and the bees come and go. They graze on my leaves. They flutter against my stalk, buzzing or chirping their contentment. They always pause at my flowe...
The surgeon has hands like a polished sword. That’s what her husband says, like a polished sword.
He buys her roses for their anniversary; he opens a bottle ...
My kid said the thing in the sky was a divorce. The drunk at the bus-stop revealed it was the Russian hackers. It was thin and, for November, unreasonably shi...
