Meticulous Henry keeps things exactly where they were when Marijo was still at home. Henry is not a neat person by nature, but he honors her this way. Marijo nursed their five children through fevers, stomach problems, rashes, and much more. It was her meticulous care that ensured they survived each calamity and reached adulthood….
Category: fiction
#FF — The Sinner
The Sinner I know perps always return to the scene of the crime. So why am I going back, knowing I could be seen? The anniversary is approaching. It’s busy with gill nets in certain seasons; this isn’t one of them. Only drunk and homeless frequent its cold shelter now, and they never talk. I…
#FF — Invitations
Invitations Fortification bricks are placed, mortared with blood, over decades. A sprawling structure, it’s sectioned into rooms, floors, cellars, and turrets. Each space has its purpose. I travel freely throughout its memories. Those regarding it will never see all of its exterior. Few will be invited in. One summer morning, while writing a poem to…
#FF — Pool Parties
Pool Parties By day, the pool pampered those who’d never known hunger; who’d been born into privilege and never left it. Cushy connections and nepotism guaranteed unearned wealth with interest and no taxes. Brown servants slathered their pale, never-pinked wrinkled bodies. By night, Gemma, a hood rat, looped surveillance footage with empty glassed blue, while…
#FF — Shattered Impasse
Shattered Impasse Each night it’s the same dream. I’m at a crossroads, where options are presented with faded, though legible signs. Just as in waking life, I’m paralyzed, unable to make a decision. “Get your fat ass out of bed and make my breakfast!!!!!” His roar from the kitchen rouses me. My warm feet feel…
#FF — The Prisoner
The Prisoner Lines and brick, what does it mean? She sees them when she closes her eyes at lights-out. She palpates her temples, feeling deep grooves from electrodes’ repeat scarring. Her jaws clench and she shudders in sympathetic memory of cold metal tables and burly, hairy arms holding her down. Her fetal curl tightens. She…
#FF — Collector (warning: dark)
Collector It began when three-year-old Jerry watched Father drop Mother to her knees by raising an eyebrow. His developing personhood vibrated knowing that Father could exert domain over Mother so easily. Jerry’s being glows watching Father’s sway over his congregants. He notices it is only over females — and children. He spies through the peephole,…
