"An indelicate, necessary treasure—its gross joys deliver humanizing relief.” —Alissa Nutting, author of MADE FOR LOVE
Do you know how dandelions reproduce?
I'm the one about to die, and he's the one crying?
What does a town do after bodies wash up on the beach?
She loved snakes, but this one was a motherfucker.
“A red dot blossoms on the screen. Eric presses the trigger on the joystick and his hand tremors. The countdown begins.”
Being attacked by a human man nowadays seems quaint.
I’ll shed those onerous memories and transform into an animal unconstrained by terrible burdens. I’ll lead a life without guilt.
“You listen when she looks at you this way, to her eyes if not to her words.”
It’s hot as balls, and we’re pickin’ weeds like some dumb shits gettin’ out last night’s dinner from our front teeth.
“Five kids, and not one made room for Mom. Oh, well. Thems the breaks.”
“Her stories are brief and there’s a trick to them: terror.”
The true crime books made it worse. My mind got to be a blender of murders.
“Oh shit,” screams Maya, giving us away. He runs at us.
It was only when I was much older that I realized Sara was tied to my mother’s nightmares.
“There was no one tending the zoo, so we just walked in.”
“No irons, flat irons, waffle irons, curling irons.” I understood: Do not shape anything.
An ATM refuses to dispense money to a person considering suicide.
No School, No Future, What I Want Cake For?
Your mom took my hand there and then and prayed, Lord Jesus, please heal James of his homosexual desires.
“I didn’t have to read the papers to know who he was.”
What kind of story would you like to write?
Haven't set your password? Login with your associated social account