this summer i wrote for a progressive, prompt based contest at AWCS, and made it to the third and final round of ten finalists. i didn’t place but i wrote 3 stories that i can expand and try to find them homes. i’ll take it!
september morningsquirrels pitch pinecones onto the roofwhere are my socks?
“look at those fucking flower shorts.” “i like them.” “and he wears a fucking hockey jersey. no fucking concept. i told him to get some tennis clothes.” they devolve into a discussion about fashion on the tennis courts, discussing the AUS open before swerving back to their friend with bad taste. “pink shoes. fucking pink … Read more
#1 the girl in front of me at the Shopper’s Drug Mart has a spine that curves into a comma. she’s a hip hitcher. #2 the woman in front of me in the Starbuck’s lower face has contracted into her neck, evidence of old burns. once red, now white. she wears a single, worn, leather … Read more
#1 the first record i ever owned i won by being the 7th caller into Big R Radio, Freeze Frame by J. Geils Band. this was 1980. the record cover had a punch at the top and was clearly an extra promo album, but the Dj threw in a fluorescent T-shirt as a consolation prize. … Read more
1. my MIL bought the Kirby at a yard sale for $50. it was in its original case, mint condition. 3. i was wary of the Kirby at first glance; I didn’t think something so old would be useful. 4. my MIL had to talk me into the Kirby when she offered it to me. i think my … Read more
i find a bottle of unopened vodka in my 18 y.o.’s closet and enquire. i don’t know where that vodka came from, she says. is it yours? uh, no. oh. I just found it in my closet. it came from somewhere, i say and wait. nothing. when I find the $15.67 charge for uptown liquor* … Read more
ciphers obscured by clouds shooting, failing at shining, losers wearing ripped euro-trash jeans and scuffed biker boots streaking across a velvet curtain smoking hand-rolled cigarettes in the lounge at the airport in Rome impervious to the fake gods that named them typical teenagers planets are the real deal, solid
jet lagged. in the middle of the night, on Italian TV, a subterranean dream. i click through the channels to find: Whitney Houston music videos. there’s always Whitney Houston videos on Italian TV, i don’t know why; chaste adverts for pleasure devices; a sexy demonstration of a non-stick frying pan; an Italian commentary about a … Read more
at the pool, there’s a man with a beautiful front crawl; each stroke flows effortlessly into the next and he breathes on the count of four. his turns are perfectly timed. at the end of the open swim, he ducks under the ropes, crossing the lanes until he reaches the ladder. that’s when the lifeguard … Read more