Fiction
Lone Star
“There was no great shift when she finally traveled over the state line. She wouldn’t have even known that it happened were it not for the little blue sign on the side of the road. New Mexico State Line. The sun still beat down with the same intensity from the other side, the same cars drove alongside her on the road, and inside she felt the same emptiness she’d felt for miles. She had so little left to go from the time she crossed over the divide; it was built for people like her. She was approaching the intersection, a few hundred feet from the end of her journey, when a different sign caught her eye. Death Zone for Babies, it read in white letters against the black background.”
*Winner! Denise Marcil Prize for Fiction, 2024
*Honorable Mention, Saturday Evening Post’s Great American Fiction Contest, 2025
Read Lone Star in the anthology here.
The Curious Case of Joseph Nessen
“I could tell he was losing sleep; his appearance was more haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and unkempt facial hair. When he spoke, he was more erratic and disoriented. He talked about the birthmark on her neck and how he scoured through all the pictures in the house to try and find proof that it was real. He explained how he observed her behavior throughout the day and marked the times when he noticed something different, something sinister, that proved that she was deceptive or dangerous. As the weeks progressed, he would tell me more and more about the research he was doing on doppelgängers and lookalikes and the fascinating things he was finding… I would do my best to redirect, to offer logical explanations, and work on dealing with his behavior. But it was ultimately pointless.”
*Winner! Indignor House Writing Competition, 2024
Read The Curious Case of Joseph Nessen in the anthology here.
The Barn in Stonefield
“What stood before me when I entered was unlike anything I have seen in my life. In truth, I cannot adequately represent the sight despite it being permanently etched in my mind like stone. What first struck me was the sheer scale of it all: it seemed to be far larger on the inside than was feasible from the exterior, and when I looked up I saw that the roof stood impossibly high above me, almost as if the walls continued all the way up into the sky. There were no stalls or dividers, but instead the vast expanse of room, floor blanketed in a layer of sickly yellow hay, was empty save for the shapes of three kneeling figures in the middle. The wan light of the nearby lantern identified them as Mr. and Mrs. Easton and Samuel, with the baby on the floor in front of them.”
Hunger
“Dr. Collins passed me another scalpel with notably reticent hands and I moved to make the first cut in the bottom left corner of intestine, where one of many prominent bulges threatened to burst through the lining. I sliced into it carefully, exposing its contents to the open air, and reached a pair of forceps in to remove whatever was inside. After some resistance, I was finally able to wrest the object from its place within the organ.
“Is that…?”
I held it aloft above the body, the ends of the forceps gripping it tightly.
“A pacifier.”
I dropped it into the metal tray where it landed with a clink.”
Transparency
“All the fuss had died down and I decided to take a shower, dragging my swollen and aching body across the room as my husband kept his eyes fixed on our son while he slept. I stripped off my gown, sat down in the chair provided by the hospital, and let the warm water pour over me.… I was just finishing rinsing off when I saw it. On the back of my right hand was a small dot, no more than a quarter of an inch across, where I could see right through my skin to the shower wall. At first, I thought it was just a smudge the same color as the tile, but as I moved it back and forth and even turned my hand over, the hole perfectly showed through to the other side. It wasn’t a hole though, really; when I touched it with my finger, my hand felt solid. I could just see through it.”
*Short List Letter Review Fiction Prize 2023
The Woman in White
“She appeared to me again only a few days after that. It was at night this time. Russell had long since gone to bed but my mind was too occupied with wedding planning to fall asleep. When I went downstairs for a glass of water, she was sitting at the kitchen island with the composure of someone who had been there before.
“You came back,” I said as I crossed the room to join her at the table. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring out through the window above the sink. As I took the chair on the adjacent side, I realized that it was the closest to her I’d ever been. Though her veil was thick, I could pick out some details of her face at that distance. Something about them felt comforting in a familiar way, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.”
Pay the Piper
“Days and nights unfurled in a blur, doubling back on themselves as each new morning brought the same horrific story: a young girl, never older than fourteen and who, by all accounts, would never stray from her family, would be missing from her bed. Their mothers would always hear faint music the night before, but looking for the source always proved to be futile. By the end, some sixteen girls had vanished. Many girls were too afraid to sleep for fear that they would disappear at night, and certain families went so far as to leave town, not wanting to risk their daughters’ lives. As we all turned our town upside down in search of missing girls, Peter continued his work on the rats, every morning insisting that he had not yet finished. Some of us began to wonder how we were to pay for all his days of work, but he assured them that they need not worry about debt.”
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Hold Me Back
“I remember being ordered to make myself look presentable for company that would not tolerate my usual appearance. I remember the books dropped onto my desk that I was told to read and know by heart as she would not allow me to make a fool of her. I remember being told that certain nights were too important for me to be allowed to join. I remember listening from the stairs and hearing her say that she’d enjoy herself so much more if she didn’t have to think about me. I remember the pungent smell of gin on her breath when she’d lean down and tell me that I’d done enough talking and it was time to leave the adults alone. I remember the nights when I needed to put her to bed and get a glass of water for her bedside table since she could barely get her clothes off. I remember hearing raucous laughter from downstairs as singular salty tears fell onto my pillow. I say nothing.”