Stories
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paint a picture
“What made you want to learn?” “I don’t really.” “Excuse me?” “Well, I really just plan on shooting this guy I know. But afterwards, I’d like to stand over his body. You know like this. My foot on h...
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my little sparrow
Look at me see my age it should mean something when I speak I spent my life protecting you watching you grow lifting you up to see If you don’t need me what is left who am I alone and empty I can’t step back let me stay watch you stand wa...
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vagrancy (II)
" You can’t stay here." By the way he reacted it was like my words had dropped and smacked this man on the back of the head. The length of his body leapt. It took a moment for his second response, a slow turning of his shoulders and hea...
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all too easy
At the same time, have your spouse sign and return the Acceptance of Service. Keep this in a safe place. Approximately 90 days after the signature, both you and your spouse must sign the Affidavit of Consent. This must be done in the presence of a nota...
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Gus
To my husband: I gave you my heart, I thought you did the same. And here we are, our first Valentine’s Day, A married couple. Yet instead of your heart, your gift was just a name. I don’t think you planned it or meant all this trouble. But ...
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plain, no sugar (and then)
Late afternoon summer bathing has become ritual. I look at my picture I.D. My face is fringed with dried wisps of hair, refugees from a damp ponytail. I sip my latte, same as the expression on my face, plain, no sugar. Time to return home, I guess. ...
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plain, no sugar
As honestly nervous as I had been about starting my job, I feel immensely serene and comfortable at the moment – perhaps residual codeine from passing the kidney stone. I sit waiting, early for the taking of my picture I.D. Interesting though, I ...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part IV and that's all
These rare spots in a spotty memory may have been the beginning of my functional literacy, may not have been. Still, my fondest literacies have been a product of observation and interaction: with those I love most, my sister functioning as the entire w...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part III
The first vocabulary word I remember learning was in ninth grade, ‘grotesque’. It was most certainly not the first which was taught to me, just the first I remember learning. Mr. Hill was explaining the meaning of this particular word using my swea...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part II
I don’t remember if any questions of mine provoked my mother’s literary selection; but I do remember the sperm in top hats and tuxedos swimming a race in an Olympic size pool. When submerged, their hats become the dark fins of sharks; and t...
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Angry White Woman
I am angry, white woman. The guilt, it is killing me. A world hates me, white woman. The great white heritage, pain, shackling people to suffering, this bondage enrages me, breaking me far sooner than ever it broke former friends. Nice is condescendin...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part IV and that's all
These rare spots in a spotty memory may have been the beginning of my functional literacy, may not have been. Still, my fondest literacies have been a product of observation and interaction: with those I love most, my sister functioning as the entire w...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part III
The first vocabulary word I remember learning was in ninth grade, ‘grotesque’. It was most certainly not the first which was taught to me, just the first I remember learning. Mr. Hill was explaining the meaning of this particular word using my swea...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part II
I don’t remember if any questions of mine provoked my mother’s literary selection; but I do remember the sperm in top hats and tuxedos swimming a race in an Olympic size pool. When submerged, their hats become the dark fins of sharks; and t...
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I have a horrible memory (literacy) Part I
When I think of my first experiences with words, I smell and feel books; the hard cloth covers of children’s books in my hands, “Cats in Spain like to fly aero-planes, but my cat likes to hide in boxes.” In memory, all books smell the...
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vagrancy
I abandoned myself here, cemented to this place. For now, it was an end, a home of concrete. The stoop crushed beneath my cheek. My disinterested view of a bleached sky, disturbed by no passers by. Alone, either the world or I had become timeless. Stub...
