“I didn’t say a thing.”
“Oh, but that look.”
“I wasn’t looking at you.”
“But you were thinking of me, weren’t you?”
“Because you stepped on my heel.” Continue reading “For Reals This Time”
Crystal bottles stood before her, hip shot in relaxed groups. Scented soldiers, they had no expectation they’d be called to order; Treena preferred sweatpants to skinny jeans, books to bodies grinding on a dance floor. Continue reading “Cure for Cabin Fever”
Layers of wool and moisture-wicking long johns.
It’s a quick hike to the kitchen for more
Coffee hot soup the sweet pungency
Of Sumo oranges in a hand-turned bowl. Continue reading “Polar Vortex and Privilege”
She was that woman, barefoot, in a thin silk shift, a blue bowl of fresh oranges from Thessaloniki in her hands.
So the prophecy said. Continue reading “Colonnade of Aspen Trees (Flash in 99)”