It took 15 minutes before Michelle finally believed her sister, Francie, who called to report that she got married over the weekend. Part of the problem was that Michelle had never met her new brother-in-law. She didn't even know his name. Francie only ever referred to him as her "Mexican Gum Drop". He was 10 … Continue reading the price of love
When I was a child, eternity filled every day. The world was a behemoth moving in slow motion. Into adulthood, each day slowed to the rhythm of the heart. At last, I was well-suited. But the heartbeat continues to slow as I age. Each day contains fewer beats, some contain none, and the world appears … Continue reading time’s heartbeat in a human life
This is a long time coming. I read Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five over the weekend of Thanksgiving. The climactic setting, which is the namesake of the novel, and the time of year I read the novel made me think about the many turkeys pushed through slaughterhouses in order to meet the demands of American consumers hungry … Continue reading thoughts on vonnegut’s slaughterhouse-five
Her fingers dug into her forearm, through skin as pliable and bloodless as modeling clay. What she removed was a smooth, oval disc of black stone. A river rock. It was one of dozens she had extracted since noon, all scattered around her. When she was done for the day, her skin without a mark, … Continue reading river rocks
The two women glared at each other even as they scooped ice cream into their mouths. In creamy spittle, they cast shade. "What an asshole," declared Mabel. "You saw that that was my chair," she complained bitterly into the crowded space, hoping someone would corroborate her claim. But finding such a soul was even more … Continue reading hot times at the ice cream social
She wasn't strong enough to manage the pain of every terrible thing she saw. She could only look at her feet while carnage ensued around her.
Every Christmas, the two sisters were each gifted a doll that had the coloring of the other. Beth, the elder sister, always coveted Maddie's doll. She yearned to have a doll with hair like the light of the sun and a dress the color of cotton candy. Instead, Beth received the Latina version of the … Continue reading the gift
When the nightingale sleeps, she wanders over a shifting desert, her bare feet in a moving embrace before, burning hot, the sand won't release. She falls, her face kissed by golden grains that she breathes in with forced affection until her lungs are full of love.
Her fingers worshiped each curve and hollow on the pilgrimage over his body, a holy meditation that delivered her to the divine.
His vanilla cream coating hid a core of sticky, sweet cherry filling, the round succulent globes pressed in on each other like earthy hearts of blood red juices to soak her shivering tongue in ecstasy.