I was kissing Maureen Lautigan when I was paged to Central Office. She wasn’t kissing me back, but she wasn’t resisting either. It was a Friday in October after last bell. The students had streamed out of school like a… Continue reading →

Emile St. Victoire is summoned to his father’s sickroom. A long-time client has died, one Madame Martine de Villegas, proprietress of a place called El Paradiso. A last will and testament must be read. When Honoré specifies the address––23 Basin… Continue reading →

Jackie is dead. I wrote a eulogy for her on 3×5 cards. I have them in my purse. The Mesa Vista Mortuary sits in the middle of a black, heat-softened parking lot. The morning sun has already bleached the sky… Continue reading →

After I altered my aquamarine formal so the ruffles in front covered more of my cleavage and made my shoulders look smaller, a few of the esteemed administrators at Sam Houston High told me I could not be a Homecoming… Continue reading →

Thomas locks his bicycle on the back porch at midnight. The lights are still on in the kitchen. That means Joanna waited up. That means good news.

She is by the sink watching him take off his shoes. When their… Continue reading →

Does your writing taxi to the end of the literary runway but fail to take off? Is your prose stuck at the gate like an overbooked commuter flight to Utica? Do you write well yet continue to pull from your… Continue reading →