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FICTION

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Watercolors

January 2020 – The Hopper

Joy wiped at the blood dripping from her nose. She took up her brush and licked the tip into a fine edge. The bristles stung along the lines of her lips and across the scars on her tongue where the embers had roasted in her mouth.

She unwrapped her only notebook from the plastic bags and string that held it together, then opened the pages, pressing them flat one by one. After dipping the brush in a cup of water, she dragged the water across the page until the sheet buckled and curled at the edges. Even though the small woman tucked herself up into the meager line of shade offered by the doorway, the back-bending heat of the day sucked the water away. Read >>

fiction-2

Hanging, Just Outside the World

March 2018 – Modern Literature

Somewhere within the fits of reason that assailed her, Sunny caught a glimpse of the boy. There, between the sleeping and the dreaming, she knew she always would.

“I saw him again.”

“Oh?” The nurse pulled a thin blanket over Sunny’s shoulders. Sunny lay in a deep chair, curled into a ball. Her hips ached and her back was tight. The nurse opened the curtains. The sun streaked in, lighting the bed in front of her. Instantly she felt the heat and pushed the blanket off and onto the floor. The bed was still empty. She’d hoped that, maybe, the bed wouldn’t be empty. She hoped that, maybe, it had all just been one long nightmare. She took a deep breath. Read >>

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