Tagged with #fiction


Flash, no. 2

You can’t escape Grace, they told me. You’re made for each other. It was good. Could hear the church organ blaring fortissimo, smell the flowers. I left. Town, her, everything I knew. Mad scramble out west without a plan or clue. On my back, on a woven blanket in c...



Flash, no. 1

I pry the ring off my finger in the Jet Blue lounge. I leave it on the cocktail napkin next to my empty glass. I raise my hand to the woman at the other end of the bar. Her eyes are chilled hunger. A twenty covers the bill, and covers ...



Strangers are friends I haven’t met yet. Drop me a line.