writing
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(Short fiction originally published with the Kindle version of The Waning.) Cancer made me beautiful. During one of my numerous appointments following my diagnosis, my doctor informed me, along with a blur of medical terms and statistical percentages, that sugar grows tumors. Strangely, staring stage four death in the face, I was suddenly able to forsake…
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I recently had an otherwise innocuous experience dig up some very old and relatively unrelated trauma. Considering the disconnect and the disproportionate emotional surge, I considered this a warning sign and an indication that I should probably finally go and address the issue. I have effectively avoided actually discussing it in 15 years of sporadic…
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I have been trying to write this blog post for two months. At first, I avoided actually drafting the words because putting them out there, writing them out would make the whole situation more real, and I was not sure how I felt about it yet. A part of me knew to keep it in…
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As the sun retreated from the sky and the last rays of light died in the air, Marla’s small body began to materialize on top of the cracked asphalt. Her hips appeared first, the round bulbs of her pelvis spiraling out of obscurity as spinal vertebrae sprouted to climb up to her shoulders and bare…
Fiery Pen 