Our six phones flatline before we arrive. The world that wears us down is out of reach. We alight from the car feeling airy and free. It's not our baggage that keeps us from floating; it's the weight of our…

Vic had his eye on a promise, a potentially fixable cool box buried underneath the junk. He was digging it up when the rain, only nagging before, began to bucket down. He rushed to the edge of the dump and…

I felt vulnerable, as anyone would when lying half undressed on a table with their legs spread in metal stirrups and the hands of a stranger touching them, their labia, their cervix—my body. "Try to relax," the doctor said.

I’m very happy to announce that my story “New Leader” published in Cheap Pop in 2018 was selected for the Wigleaf Top 50. Two other stories, “Clean Hands” (published in Monkey Bicycle) and “Limbo Land” (published in Lost Balloon) made…

My small-town modern ballet class competed and won the honor of dancing for the elevation of mankind in a pasture stocked with live animals. All expenses paid and eternal fame and so forth. Plus a token of gratitude for each.

My memories and I sleepwalk into town, arm in arm, down the street of black stockings and long skirts, our flat heels click-clacking on the cobblestones. We pass the hat shop with its window of false promises behind which forgotten…