READFICTION
The Depths of Finer Things
The first time I died, Ima tells me, the sun flared its great, fiery disc and swallowed the whole world in a moment. And everything that had been was then no more. The second time I died, it was at the hands of a grand, dark army, their bayonets through my stomach and heart. And when I fell their boots marched over my corpse as though a body that falls was never standing to begin with.
read more
Bury Me in St. Paul
It is a warm and humid night in summer. The sound of dogs barking on the street. The sound of crickets from the brush and cicadas in trees. Fireflies flash like tiny cameras through the grass along rows of dark cars parked along the curb.
read more
Not For Sale
Gogo was raised by her uncle, whose name was George Sale, after her mother died and her father left for Africa. Her father never returned from Africa, and whether he was alive or dead she never cared to find out.
read more
The Definition of Hope
The day breaks sweaty like the last. Like every day in summer. And especially so in the city where there are no trees to provide shade – only countless blocks of cement baking like the desert, or like the desserts baking in oven pans from the church basement after service. All we can do is hope for rain.
read more
The Seasons
My memories are made of brick and cement and glass. My dreams are bathed in the waning sunlight of an autumn day. Long shadows creep over fences and pull at the sidewalk as the sun begins to set. My dreams are apples picked from trees and flat piano notes from songs I never learned how to play.
read more
To Be So In Love
A woman said that love is freedom. That love is falling and flying and falling and catching and getting back up together. That love is not what was before, but what will be tomorrow.
read more
When the World Becomes Water
Water is not something you can hold onto. It’s not something you can grasp, or something you can build a house on. But you can float, swim, boat, ride waves like California and Hawaii.
read more
It would be safest if you ran
There is a focus on borders and walls in these current times, and consequently, a rise in scared xenophobia. Or is it the other way around?
read more
Lazy Days, Falling Asleep, Stuck in School, Dreaming
It’s something that makes too much sense. Like watching a car crash/auto accident and subsequent fistfight on an LA highway, or M&Ms after getting high at midnight.
read more
The Cruelty of Children
There are those who say that cruelty is learned, and not inherent – the result of trauma and abuse. Freud’s view was that it occurs naturally, based in biology and psychology and a part of human nature.
read more
Why I Like the Rain
Sometimes grandma just sits at the edge of the window sill. Rocking back and forth. Like she would in her rocking chair wen she was still alive. Sometimes that’s enough.
read more
The Unchanging Nature of People
We stand in front of long white walls: No pictures, or wallpaper, or paintings, or even scuff marks to show that we used to live between them.
read more
An Exploration of the Night and Safe Spaces
They kicked the family out of the apartment upstairs and I saw them with their things on the side of the street. Everybody is looking for someplace safe.
read more
Everything So Beautiful and Dirty and Absurd
All the kids have dirty noses they wipe on their sleeves. There is a lot of truth to be found on the sleeves of children from the hood.
read more
From the Streets of American Cities
The air is a perfect 80 degrees. Winter is over. The people around us are musing, eternally, how much of their lives they’ve spent sitting in cars.
read more
As Long As We Fly
Science saved my life, but it didn’t make me want to live. I stay wrapped up in blankets. But it’s like Frank says, As long as we fly, the world will have no end.
read more
A Quantifiable Attraction
A quantifiable attraction described as magic. Like Charles Bukowski in Factotum, “I kiss her. She answers with her tongue. Women are magic.”
read more
Cake in the Morning
We’ll spend our night under the stars of Guadalajara, falling asleep so peacefully sound that not even the calls of animals around us will disturb our dreams.
read more
Rusty
We called her Rusty because there was a rumor that the hair between her legs was the red color of rust and aren’t the neighborhood kids so funny?
read more
An Old Man’s Story
One old man tells his story of life lived; the poetry of a world we were all forced to inherit, and that we will all be forced to someday give up as well.
read more
The Kids Who Keep Neighborhood Secrets
The rain bites through my coat and makes me shiver. A few cars roll past me on the street, tires squealing in the cold air. This is my neighborhood.
read more
The Future
On the island you can become a part of the ocean and the sand and the sky and the sun that are greater than anything people could ever build.
read more
In Bed With a Hush
From spending nights in a warm bed downtown to sleeping alone on a futon, one never knows what the end of a relationship will bring.
read more
A Short Story About Violence
Working at her father’s liquor store in the toughest part of the city, a teenage girl comes face to face with violence when a would-be robber pulls a gun.
read more
Ice Cream on a Hot Day
Everyone feels nostalgic about their childhood from time to time. We all have stories that stick out in our memories. Some stories stick out more than others.
read more