Category: Short/Micro/Flash Fiction
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Sarah In The Morning
It was a cold, October morning at the Super 8 just off exit 337 and things were about to go, well, the way things tend to go. The detritus of a night gone wonderfully wrong lay about us: A crumpled bag of NASCAR-themed barb-e-cue Fritos, a spent bottle of Yukon Jack, a crumpled patriot-blue camisole…
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The Polyphonic Spree: Lithium
So you come home for a visit and your mom is hovering at the door, tears ringing her red eyes, cheeks stained with mascara, and she’s crying, mumbling about someone from church seeing you on the interwebs and calling to tell her, not wasting any time about either. Your dad is scowling four steps behind…
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Untouchable Me
From a dream I had…I’m with some cool government white-hat cats in this purple old Ford panel van, something out of The Waltons via American Graffitti with slick modern Goodyears and the lush power rumble of a primo big block Chevy engine under the hood. The Feds are dressed to the nines: sharp suits and…
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Fiction Excerpt (Rough Draft in Progress: Olya’s Warhol Night
Try to ignore the issues with verb tense–these reflect unresolved narrative decisons in the longer form version and are not meant to imply that Olya exists on three different but simultaneous temporal planes, although now that I think on it…. Wake up at noon, legs trembling, back muscles slip-knotted, drawing tighter with every slight movement,…
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An Hour From Boise (another excerpt from an abandoned story)
There’s this pit of the stomach feeling, I know you know it, when you blaze over the crest of a slope on the highway with the Pogues blaring Streams of Whiskey from a dozen speakers and that big block Chevy 454 thundering backup, and the unmistakable profile of a Ford Police Interceptor crouches on the…
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Henry’s Morning Visit
Hey, Babe. Two minutes after I talked to you there’s a knock on the door. It’s not your pa, looking for Sophie’s bags, or the milk man, but Heather with Henry and his car seat in tow. It’s 7:42. Hey, I say. I’m dressed in my silvery long john pants and ratty white mock tee. Sophie…
Old Road Apples 