Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
On a blank wall a purple line rises and falls as the painter walks alone, can in hand, heart fast, breath shallow, hopes high. The line will soon disappear at the hand of another painter, hired to cover this expression of joy, as it will be thought of by the Read more
There are no secrets. It’s just that many do not see the obvious. I hate it when people deny the obvious. Sometimes I hate the obvious, too. And here I am with my flashlight. Not flood lights. Not even a torch. Day after day we stumble around cloaked in insignificance, Read more
*Opening of a short story entitled ‘Camille’ focusing on a perceived vampire of the Victorian era, Camille Monfort. Men flock to me as hungry birds, ravenous for otherness, an exotic morsel to devour. I’m a unique flower, one that grows on mountaintops, cast away from all others that pale in Read more
Survive; Survivor; Survived. What does it mean? Is it what they survived? Or what we survived? What I survived? That’s definable – the ‘what’; Danger, violence, terror. The suffocating distress of it. But what does surviving look like? Is it still being alive? Is it still carrying on? Is it Read more
Four years later, Keith and I were married and living in New York City, and Jordan was no longer a “young bullock without blemish.” He still had his issues with school, and Mom and Dad transferred him from the suburban public high school the rest of us had attended to Read more
I. James Edward the Third entered the world like a limp bruise—purple against the sterile room—in a silence that hurt my ears from straining, stretching and stretching, taking with it his brain cells and future. Some of you will know what I mean. I’m sorry for that. The only thing Read more
It’s a Tuesday evening, and I’ve just returned from therapy. I pour a glass of wine before gathering the ingredients for dinner: six shallots, garlic, half a can of tomato paste, anchovies, and pasta. Outside, my neighbor who lives in the building behind mine pulls into the shared parking lot. Read more
My eyes focused on the illustration of the fallopian tubes as Dr. Marquez fingered me with two digits and a pencil light. Poking and prodding at my cervix, I spread my thighs like I was back at cheerleading practice warming up for a jump sequence. I wondered what she might Read more