Step into the Mexican restaurant together, you beautiful protagonists. Shake the drops off your umbrellas. Wouldn’t’ve guessed it from the Spanish-mission-style façade, but it’s a sprawling interior. Though it looks like you’re the only patrons there tonight. The...
flash fiction
Blooming
Mei turns into a flower whenever we touch. Her pupils blossom into glossy hibiscuses—hues of red and peach and white. They grow from her pores and eat through her skin, treating her flesh as the soil that nourishes them. We tried different things: kissing, hugging,...
At World’s End
I’m giving Kayode Last-Name-Pending a pretty accomplished blowjob in the back of my rented Subaru when Jesus Christ returns. He’s a theatrical man (Jesus, I mean; Kayode, I met minutes ago at a bar), announcing the onset of rapture in a whirl of lightning and wind. No...
Someone Else
Someone picks at her nail polish. Someone keeps checking her phone. Someone complains it’s too hot; someone asks how much longer this is going to take. Someone wants to grab pizza when it’s over. All the someones agree on thin crust, because prom is right around the...
Late Night Drive Long Time Gone
On the highway at night, every other car is filled with ghosts. (you could be a ghost, too, if you tried) They flicker in and out of view under the highway lights, the headlights of other cars. Children asleep in the backseat who sit up to look at you. Or they stay in...
Portable Television
That morning Judy brought a television to the bakery, one of those little tube driven units. It must have been twenty years old. Back then, portable meant eighteen pounds. We plugged it in next to the coffee maker, pulled the antenna to length, and looked into...
Another Beatrice
If I could, I would pray, but God has no use for a girl like me. “Non mi tange.” During labor, my mother had an auditory hallucination that Dante was speaking to her. Dante the poet. He told her to name me Beatrice. Beatrice was not affected by the flames and misery...
The Trouble with Dating
He left his scent behind. It melted into pillows, sheets, and shirts crumpled onto the floor. It even soaked into my skin. Once, I swore, it had made a home in the deepest caverns of my nasal cavity, and that’s where it lived for days. When it finally packed up and...
Varying Degrees of Dead
The Lifeline operator refuses to take my call when she realises I’m already dead. I tell her my name, and she looks up my file. She sounds angry, tells me to hang up, says she’s in the business of helping the living. I beg her to stay on the line, tell her it’s not...
Late Lunch; Early Dinner
We’re having a late lunch, five women, widows now, who have been meeting once a month for forty years. “Dress-up time” we call it because when you are our ages—86, 87, 91, and 93-- few events encourage one to don a cape, drape a rope of pearls around a neck, or apply...
At My Job I Work the Robotic Arms
On the line, I run a double-forklift. It’s a lot like a regular forklift, but the forks both spread out on either side and when they fan out, you have to catch the grooves of both pallets just so at the same time. And you have to do it FAST. Also, the balance point is...
Unfinished Equations
I stand at the kitchen window, calculating the parabolic arc a murmuration of birds makes against the ridge of conifers. He coalesces at my elbow, tipping his moon-face up to me, to the scratch of blue sky beyond the box of this house. No longer a boy-shaped smudge or...