This is what Hell is like, my father warns, stirring the embers inside our wood stove. Lined up like dolls before him, my two older sisters and I wait for whatever comes next, afraid to take our eyes from the fire. The rising heat stings my baby-soft skin. I am still a baby, basically; small and wobbly on my feet, my hair is wispy and blonde, my cheeks are round and chubby, my world is the little red house we call home. Somehow, I grow up after all of this, tall and thin just like him. The son he always wanted, or so he thought.
I never believed in miracles until I witnessed one in the summer of 1989. Back then, my granny was always going on about how the end times were upon us while my mother said we should focus on the miracles that were all around. They both claimed I’d see the truth for myself if I bothered paying attention. I didn’t believe either one of them, really. But then I met the boy.
Click here to read the full story. And let me know what you think in the comments below!
Follow this link to open the pdf of the issue now. You’ll have to scroll through to find my story. Here’s a brief excerpt:
Last night, as my mother and I cleaned the dishes at the kitchen sink, my father paced back and forth behind us, biding his time. Each time one of his boots hit the floor in the living room, the sound vibrated across the house, warning us.
My short story “The Waiting Fire” is now available to read online. It was published in the 2019 edition of Slippery Elm – they’ve added the entire issue to their web archive. Follow this link to read the story now! Below is a brief excerpt:
This can’t be happening. I feel the colors draining from my body, leaving nothing behind but an outline of what might have been. I can’t feel my heart, I can’t find my next breath. I’m lost in a world burning bright. All I can see are the flames eating my house.
To read the entire story, click on this link now. Let me know what you think in the comments below!
My short story ‘Flecks of Red Paint’ was just published in The Lumiere Review‘s special Advocacy issue. In the story, a young boy fantasizes about how he might kill his father. It’s unclear just how serious he is until the end.
Follow this link to read the story now. Here’s a brief excerpt:
With my right hand, I scratch along the side of the house, scraping away tiny red flecks of paint, some of which get stuck beneath my fingernails. The further I drag my hand, the more it hurts. I stare down at my stained fingertips, thinking back to that day I helped my father paint the house. Even then, I was tempted to shake things up. What if I didn’t hold the ladder so tightly? What if I shook it, making him fall?
To read the full story, click here. And make sure to tell me what you think in the comments below. Enjoy!
My short story ‘Follow Me’ was just published by The Manifest-Station. I really had fun playing with surreal elements while writing this story, which focuses on a young couple who are haunted by increasingly bizarre episodes of sleepwalking each night.
Click here to read the full story now! Here’s a brief excerpt:
The hot, wet tears falling down her face released the immense pressure that had been building inside her head. She calmed down, pulling herself off the floor to sit on the bed. She stared down at his leg still sticking out and felt a sudden urge to kick him, hard. That small flicker of rage disappeared before it could grow into something dangerous. I love you, she whispered, no matter what you decide.
Follow this link to read the full story. And let me know what you think in the comments below. Enjoy!
My short story “Winking and Blinking” was just published by Stoneboat Literary Journal (Issue 10.2, Summer 2020). It’s a beautiful journal with lots of great prose, poetry, and visual art. Check out their website for a full list of contributors and information on ordering your copy today! Below is a short excerpt from my story:
The woman I lived next door to as a child just shot herself in the head. The news is passed along like the latest bit of juicy small-town gossip. I imagine my mother telling her friends at the beauty parlor, exaggerating her connection to the tragedy. When I hear the woman’s name, I drop the phone, barely managing to catch it before it hits the floor. I pull it back to my ear, to the sound of my mother rambling on. Typical of these Sunday night calls to check in, she’s already moved on to something else, hitting each bullet point of our mostly one-sided conversation. She likes keeping me updated, but not a lot happens back home, especially in the span of just one week. She keeps talking, but I can’t hear anything after that first piece of information. Something finally happened ..
To read the full story, order your copy today! Please enjoy, and let me know what you think of “Winking and Blinking” in the comments below.
My short story “City Filled with Expectant Mothers” was published in the “Crowds” edition of In Parentheses Magazine (v. 5, issue 4, Spring 2020). You can purchase the magazine here (digital download, print copy, or both). Below is an excerpt from my story:
They’re everywhere, they’re all I see, and no matter how far I run I know I’ll never escape. What started on the train continued in the grocery store and followed me on my run along Riverside Drive. This city, suddenly filled with expectant mothers. They’ve sprung up like weeds, their stomachs so swollen I wonder how they keep from falling over.
Purchase the latest issue of In Parentheses here to read the full story. It’s a great magazine filled with poetry, prose, and photography!
Make sure to check out In Parentheses, based here in New York.
As I got the news, a wave crashed into the room, filling it with water. I fell under, looking everywhere for the surface but failing to find it. A pair of lips continued moving across from me, but the words floated away. I left like that, still submerged and stunned, my hand gripping papers with more words I couldn’t understand. This drowning would be long and slow. I had to get used to life underwater.
To read the full story, go here.
Ghost City Review is published by Ghost City Press. Check them out! And let me know what you think about my story!
An explosion of sound like a gunshot rang out late one night, startling me awake. Unable to tell if the noise had come from the apartment next door or the nightmares in my head, I bolted upright, struggling to catch my breath. In the dream, I’d been watching my father stomp back and forth through our red house, gripping the small gun he always carried in the inside pocket of his faded denim jacket. He still plays games in these dreams, pointing the gun at us without revealing it. We know it’s there, and he knows our fear.