Short stories
Condoms and Cannolis –
How Father Brennan, a good Irish-Catholic from the farmlands of Iowa could find himself sitting in an airport hotel room in Paris with a silly little condom wavering in his hand the Lord only knew. He'd found it, coyly hidden beneath the toothbrush, toothpaste and t-shirt in the emergency overnight bag courtesy of Air France. He'd never held a condom before, and the lightness of it surprised him. Leave it to the French, he sthought, to believe that any male passenger would need a little protection to make it through a stranded, lonely evening.
Prozac Salt Lick – Appeared in Word Riot – September, 2008
Corporations were not on the job market radar for me, a liberal arts major who only cared about when the next Dead show was, how best to get there (friend's battered Volkswagen, Greyhound or hitchhike), and which hot hippie girl would be invited to tag along. Flash forward fifteen years and here I sit in middle manager hell, the title Employee Relations Manager emblazoned on my business cards. My sociology degree and I started off with the best of intentions — something about saving the world. But then the college loans started coming due, and then the marriage led to a mortgage and the next thing I knew I'm a corporate drone selling my soul for a steady paycheck and a PPO plan. I have officially entered the first circle of hell — Dilbert in 3D. Like a scratched and skipping LP, I can hear David Byrne of Talking Heads singing, 'Well....how did I get here?'
Coming Back to You – Appeared in All Things Girl – September, 2008
The humid, salt air seeped into Tracy’s nose, waking up the portion of her brain that processed childhood memories — the part that she’d purposely let fall into a quiet slumber for the last month. She walked uncomfortably in her skin, the memories of her and Shauna as kids on this beach in South Jersey unraveling before her eyes. Standing on the boardwalk and grasping firmly to the rail, slick and chilled with morning dew, she allowed it to support her weight, as she viewed the ocean for the first time since Shauna died. Her baby kicked inside her and shook loose a tear.
Cinnamon Red Memories – Appeared in All Things Girl – May, 2008
It had been two years, four months and nine days since Jack left for Europe. Charlotte puckered her lips in the mirror, carefully applying the cinnamon red lipstick that she had purchased at Woolworth’s that morning. All of her extra spending money that week went to acquiring new lipsticks. She counted nine new ones since Monday. Charlotte justified the money to herself in the odd way she often did - how was she to know what her mood would be by five o’clock on Friday?
Go Find Yourself – Appeared in All Things Girl – March, 2008
'Go find yourself,” that was what Jenna’s therapist, Marcie said when Jenna mentioned she was considering going to Boulder, Colorado to house-sit for her best-friend Sara.
What If – Appeared in All Things Girl – January, 2008
The bestpart of love is the thinnest slice, and it don’t count for much…” I belt theAir Supply lyrics to Lost in Love at the top of my lungs as I drive to work.
Stars of New York – Appeared in All Things Girl – December 2007
It was the first time Sid had seen starsin New York. He’d been the star on stage for half his life, but the blindingstage lights would never have let the beauty of the real stars — the ones inthe sky – come through.
Replacing Parts – Appeared in All Things Girl – October, 2007
The crisp air holds the scent of fall. Tommy sucks back his mucus, laughing at the gurgling sound it makes. Like a choreographed dance, his little brother Josh turns his misty blue eyes up towards Tommy, letting out a full-bodied laugh before toppling onto his knees. Together they stand in the driveway volleying laughs back and forth, catching and tossing them and being as free as the falling leaves that circle and sway around them.
Stale Carrot Cake – Appeared in All Things Girl – September/October, 2007
At the third red light Hope re-reads her shopping list. She doesn’t need a list, but she’s a list kind of person – she sometimes writes a reminder to herself that she has to write a list. There are times when her lists contain only one item. Today it’s a real list; there are three: laxatives, pregnancy tests, nail files.The Space Between Heaven and Hell – Appeared in All Things Girl – August, 2007
I met Kyle on a rainy Sunday afternoon. He was standing under the red-line L-tracks near the Granville stop half-heartedly holding an “Anything Helps” sign. The rain was beginning to run the letters together. Water poured off his jagged black hair and fell carelessly into his soft brown eyes. His long lashes twinkled in the neon reflection of the liquor store sign. He held himself in a slouched, defeated sort of way that could have been real or simply well affected. His black trench coat was second-hand vintage, and narrowly covered his fading Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt. His jeans fit handsomely around his slender legs and buckled above ankle high Doc Marteens. He could have been nineteen, twenty-nine or anywhere in that lost zone in-between. I looked him up and down, and all I wanted to do was take him into my arms and hold him for the rest of eternity.