Browse Topics
Fear
The Open Marketplace of the End Times
Today I remembered the last time I looked out the window. This was months ago. Was I braver then—or more childlike? No, not childlike, as children do not look out their windows either. More naive. More stupidly hopeful.
July 2026
Hoddernot
We posted pictures of ourselves in uniform, desperate to benefit from serving in a war many of us didn’t understand, desperate for a connection and for someone to acknowledge us and, ultimately, acknowledge that a war was going on, that it was real.
July 2026
The Empty Room Inside Each of Us
Crumb is always right, always the one telling the story, always the one who turns the drab, lonesome plains they call home into a world that’s dramatic and necessary.
June 2026
Because I became allergic to chocolate when I was seventeen
because a rash spread on my chest when I ate mole sauce at Sanborns; because acne populated my face every time I drank hot cocoa; because I believed it to be easy to give up something I loved
June 2026The Feeding
Some leeches have two jaws. Others have three. Some have teeth on their tongues. There are protective leeches who hover over their eggs, and leeches who carry their newborns in pouches like tiny kangaroos.
June 2026
Separation
There is a dead snake on the cracked road. My son says it’s not a dead snake. He says the snake has just shed its skin and left it there.
May 2026Struck
I often wonder if there was something I missed, if the thunder and lightning said something I couldn’t understand.
May 2026
My Bowstring Heart
On the field I was all animal instinct and brute force—a bruiser, a bone breaker. Every tackle was a rebuke against a life where fathers die. When I played rugby, I wasn’t a broke, lost little girl. I wasn’t a struggling amateur writer. I had goals. I was a winner. I was MVP. I was someone.
May 2026
Home Invasions
Still, I hadn’t counted on real, live rats. “I’m surprised you hadn’t heard them before,” said Rat Guy #1, as he came to be known. “From the looks of it they’ve been here a while.”
May 2026
The Coast of Nowhere II
Sleet and black rain / pelting the eaves, the kind of predawn / that reaches through the window, hissing, / Your heart never was a bird let alone / a bright-red singing one.
April 2026
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