Emmylou Harris is singing “Red Dirt Girl” on the satellite radio as Jeannette turns into her tract.
Published by The Sunlight Press on November 4, 2020.
The artwork above is a painting by Steve Johnson.
You can read the story here.
Published in the Sonora Review
Eddie brushes his teeth with the bathroom door open, watching the television in the living room. “Sixth inning,” Vince Scully says. “Full count, nobody out.” The Dodgers have a chance to clinch their division title if they win this game. It’s a school night though and his mother’s already told him to go to bed twice.
I’m a traveling notary, up and down the freeways of Southern California day and night, weekends too. I can’t count all the collisions I’ve seen, all the near misses. I dream about accidents instead of sleeping. (Continue reading here)
Published in The Blue Lake Review in
Annie ignores the exit sign for Chapman Boulevard and drives out to the canyon instead, past where the hot springs used to be, past the motorcycles in front of Cook’s Corner, past the scrub oaks and dry creek bed, hoping to hike up Black Start trail. (Continue reading here)
The Second Corona Book of Horror Stories (available for purchase here)
"Neil stacks the lunch plates in the kitchen sink and goes back to the living room. “I’ll wash them later,” he says as he sits down in the recliner next to Stephanie’s. Their chairs are identical except for the color of the afghans folded neatly over the back of each, hers lavender, his forest green. She’d crocheted both of them years ago before her arthritis got bad."
(Nominated for Best of the Net Anthology, 2017) Lunch Ticket (read the story here)
"Paul hates talking on the phone so Connie’s the one who calls his daughter-in-law once a month to catch up. She doesn’t mind calling Vicky. She likes hearing about the grandkids growing up too fast in the new house in Simi Valley where they’ve never been invited."
The Ear Volume 22, 2018 (available for purchase here)
"They’re on their bikes, Peggy riding behind Allison, following the last float of the Fourth of July parade down Main Street: red, white, and blue bunting strung on the eve of every house, residents sitting on their curbs in patriotic finery."
The Ear, Volume 20, 2015 (available for purchase here)
"On Tuesday afternoon Ray realized he'd given his mother a calcium table with her breakfast instead of the anti-depressive pill she was supposed to take once a day with food."
Extracts: A Daily Dose of Lit
The priest from St. Catherine’s sprinkled holy water over Hermann’s head and started the rosary. Who are all these people? Hermann wondered, staring out at the crowd clustered around his hospital bed. He recognized some of the faces, Evelyn, of course, his wife, standing to his right, gripping a shredded Kleenex. (Read the rest of the story here)