Blue Birds
A young woman desperately tries to entice a pair of finicky blue birds into keeping their home
on the fire escape outside of her apartment window.
This story has not yet been written.
The Goose
A story inspired by my grandmother, who has dementia. This is a story about dealing with an elders fading mental faculties, but more than that it's about my grandmother's long battle against the geese population in her backyard and how similar she is to her arch nemisis.
I killed Grandma
Every Friday, my little hands touched dragons. The palm of my hand, firm, on the rigid scales of their backs, followed the twists and turns of their bodies to where their tongues forked, bright red from the embers of fire that burned in their flared nostrils. Their bodies interwove like snakes with curled talons and stubby legs. The double green doors before me were carved hallow to reveal these guardians. With a deep breath and a salivaless swallow, every Friday, I reached for the handle and entered my grandfather’s house. ...
The Shadow Man
The shadow man isn't real. He follows me anyway.
When I walk out the doors of the building where I work making phone calls until late in the evening, he will be there, waiting, hiding inside the bushes. His presence lurks like hot breath just below and behind my left ear and my shoulders roll as my back arcs and flexes to be rid of the sensation. My boss tells me I must sit still in meetings but the breath on my neck makes the skin covering my left kidney quiver. I can feel him, so he must be there. ...
Princes and Princesses
A story inspired by my niece, who despite growing up in a family of feminists, with a close gender bending relative (points to self) was determined to love pink, wear frilly dresses and dream about her prince charming.
In the changing of the tides
... Early in the morning, before people wake to watch the sunrise, the tide turns from low to high, slowly switching between stealing the sand, forcing it out to sea and cleansing itself, dropping shells and seaweed onto the beach. It was in this transition that Troy was swept from the ocean, head first, and left standing on a sand bar. The tide gave birth to him, bringing him in as he gasped for the breath he’d been patiently waiting to take while swirling under the waves. ...