Posts in Category

Fantasy

I sing in jazz clubs under the name Shadia. My following saw a swell in my mid-twenties. My voice has always been husky and a bit low. I love singing under dim lights to live music. I love having a secret life, somewhere I can go when parenting becomes too much. When I’m tired of the sun or the rain or the busy-making of today’s “music.” What I like about performing is that I’m seen, but I’m also part of the background. My voice is a prop for falling in

New to The Docks? Click here for Episode 1. *** When my eyes had searched back over the dunes, I’d thought it impossible we’d find the Jeep again. The sun was pushing up at the darkness, but the Jeep was nowhere in sight. I stood holding onto Helene’s shoulders, still trembling from my out of body experience combined with the horror of finding Alan after all. I dismissed the thought that all this time, our bonfires had been built from human bodies. “We’re taking him with us,” Helene said. I wanted

New to The Docks? Click here for Episode 1. *** How could I let this happen? I looked around at the shifting sands, drifting eerily without the wind to move them. Helene stood next to me, her eyes narrowed in the moonlight. “There’s something out here,” she said. She took a sideways step toward me. Our shoulders touched. I shivered with the effort of keeping the wall between us. It wasn’t easy. What Helene was feeling was the raw wound of a lost spouse. She’d been tied to Alan, that much

 Click here to read Episode 1. I watched Helene with her parents through the celebration. They stood frozen against the heat of the blaze, statues amidst the frenzied dance of loss and life. Her parents each kept a hand on her shoulders, which now thin, though they never had before. Their concerned gazes wandered periodically from their daughter to one another. I did my best to ignore the emotional chatter the fresh bond was feeding me from Helene’s mind. My own mother’s voice slid into my ear. “You’ve bonded.” I

I was invited to a bonfire out at the docks.  I’d heard rumors of the place; moving dunes swept up by the winds punctuated by wooden boardwalks that ran a length and dropped off over a sea of sand. Sturdy docks, but old and frightening because there was no one alive who knew when there had last been water enough for a boat to load into this side of Tijlis. No one could imagine what else those docks might have been for. But those rumors were nothing compared to the

Latest Stories

Not All Men

The Emotional Labor and Delivery of Boundaries

Heavy Things

How I Started Writing

Talking Body, Scars and Survival with Hips & Curves

Of Matriarchs and Memories

Search stories by typing keyword and hit enter to begin searching.