Intense, sticky, long and uncommon are just a few words you could use to describe the summer I’ve been having. I don’t believe it to be an entirely unique experience, though.I had decided to return to my hometown in the big city to reset and reflect after being laid off […]
The Kokopelli of the Black Mesa Read More »
One of the first kids to hear the bouncy calliope music was six-year-old Lisa Reid, who was sitting on the front porch of her house with Becky Briarwood, her best friend in the whole world. Lisa’s long blonde hair, held in place by the pink scrunchie her mom helped her
Scream for Ice Cream Read More »
It started as quite an unremarkable summer, as far as summers usually go in the city. It became swelteringly hot within days of spring ending, queuing the opening of windows and turning on of fans across every neighborhood, every room washed in dim night backed by the soundtrack of their
It’s Gonna Be Another Hot One! Read More »
I’m going to tell you about a town—a town you should never go to. For your protection, I won’t tell you the name or location. But I’ll tell you this: if you ever think you might be in this town, get the hell out of there and don’t look back.
The summer that I was eighteen, I was trying to find something bigger than myself. I was a dumb kid, but dumb in the sense that I didn’t understand when I was in too deep. Ask me anything about literary devices in storytelling, and I could write you a thesis
The Summer I Was Eighteen and Saved Read More »
