Stories
The Body Keeps Its Own Hours
He filled it to the line he'd scratched with a key, not the one printed on the plastic. The scratch was lower. His shoulder had told him about the printed line ...
Stories
The Night She Stopped Highlighting
The highlighter cap was on the table. Not lost - she could see it, two inches from her coffee mug, a small yellow cylinder she'd set down without deciding to. H...
Stories
Discovering audiobooks for the long afternoons that used to eat her alive
The glasses had scratched left lens that Walter had kept meaning to get fixed. She turned them over in her hands, the way she'd turned the car keys over in her ...
Stories
The Things That Can't Explain Themselves
Aunt Vera set the sugar bowl down, picked it up, set it down again. The dent on the left side caught the kitchen light the same way every time. She pressed her ...
Stories
The Glovebox
The curl of papers had fanned across his knee - three of them, cream gone yellow, each one a different car. He smoothed the top one flat with his thumb the way ...
