There’s an overgrown field of sweetgrass behind Georgia’s childhood home. When it gets cold out, the sweetgrass dries and rough leaves make small cuts on young fingers. Georgia used to go out at dusk and hold a piece under her nose, inhaling as much as she could before her lungs were filled to the brim.… Continue reading field of sweetgrass
The phone rang irritably on Marilyn’s bedside table. On its third ring, she considered that whoever was on the other end of the line might have something important to offer like a publishing deal or congratulations for a sweepstakes win. She read Peter’s name on the screen and decided that, while he couldn’t possibly provide… Continue reading on the way
Ellorah stepped inside the office and informed the secretary of her appointment. The woman gave her a numbered ticket and told her to take a seat in the mostly-vacant waiting room. She found an unmarked, plastic-covered chair and sat down until her number appeared on the screen above the reception desk. A voice over the… Continue reading time enough at last
Sometimes at parties, they would make eye contact with each other from across the room. Jesse would tilt his head in a gesture that Mora would read as “Are you okay?” and Mora would either nod or wince as if to say “Not really. I’m feeling a little tired. I’d like to go home and… Continue reading ice cream on the way home
Do you remember when I left that 7-11 slurpee in the car and David had to come help me get the ants out? Or that night on the beach when Kyla lost her sandals in the dark? What about that time that we saw fireflies in Louisville in the forest behind the casino? What book… Continue reading do you remember?
written on May 21, 2020 / On Ellis Avery’s 26th birthday, she woke up to a grey window glittered with rain. This sight was a great relief, as she had hoped to spend the day inside but was afraid of the pressure to go out on a “beautiful” day. It was nine thirty now and… Continue reading for the best
written on May 14, 2020 / By June, Eve had forgotten what it felt like to be alone. In her time at home she was sharing space and time with seven roommates, all of which had their own routines, habits, and pets. On good days, the company was enjoyable. There was always someone to talk… Continue reading unfamiliar terrain
written on March 3, 2020 / In the breakup, he took the Eames chair, the Casablanca poster, and the sourdough starter. Milo was a good person, I swear. He just didn’t understand that the starter was ours to share, that the jar I left on the counter was intended for him to use to split… Continue reading eames chair, casablanca poster, sourdough starter