dark water

Lovey is twelve and living with her substitute family the day her period comes. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is. “Should we cancel the trip to the river?” Delilah, her substitute mother, asks. “Are you feeling blue?” Lovey is occasionally morose and Delilah has developed a regimen for it, in which she […]

seb

I met Sebastian in a summer writing program to which I’d applied as a result of feeling lost again (my standing motivation, it seems, for anything). I hadn’t really expected to get in. “Why do we write?” we were asked, the first day. I found the question generic, and I leaned forward at the table […]

not a player

At parent-teacher conferences, Mr. B suggests that my son, Django, explore other genres over the summer. My son is gorgeous, broad-shouldered with curly-blonde surfer hair. “Do you really think that?” he wants to know. “Or do you just have to say that because of the standards?” He’s also a sharp one. A full grade ahead […]

beach glass

Behind my eyes, a pure story is like a gazillion grains of untouched sand. Its telling a graceful sifting through open fingers. But when I open my eyes and look down life’s supposedly pristine coastline, I often find it jarring. “Hey, what’s that syringe doing there?” I have to ask. Or, “What’s with the broken […]

celia

I was in Montana the night we lost my sister. But I was on my way home, too. What? I was. Montana was a bust. Like Brazil before it. But different, I suppose. Montana was a bust in an I-accidentally-moved-in-with-a-male-stripper-who-gets-into-knife-fights kind of way. Whereas with Brazil I had simply underestimated the impact of the third […]

read me

Sometimes I like to let go and follow a blind path. Even if that path finds me crashing a convention at a nearby hotel. Keeping my distance and drinking alone. Even if that path offers up men who¬†are brave enough to approach, but have no way to reach me. Because sometimes that path leads me […]