My attention is occupied by a nature documentary at low volume. Itâs late spring and raining lightly outside. The narratorâs reassuring received pronunciation introduces tonightâs protagonist, a rare species of desert-dwelling toad. Greg once told me, after a few Japanese highballs, that participating in the illegal trade of exotic amphibians […]
Mother Nature Doesn’t Love You Back Read More »
Now that I’m trying to tell the story of how I died, I’ve found myself appreciating the craft of eulogy more than I ever did in life. I’m finding it difficult to find where the story of my end begins. It all started with it, I suppose. I saw it
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You think you know your family. What they look like, how they speak, how it feels when they pat you on the back and say âwelcome homeâ. None of us truly know any other person; not completely, often not in the ways that matter. I thought I knew my family,
I Inherited the World’s Worst Genetic Condition Read More »
I used to draw spirals in the margins of my notebooks when I was a kid. I donât know why. They made me feel calm, like if I just kept the line turning, nothing bad could happen. Sometimes Iâd go through an entire page without lifting my pen just loops
Itâs December. The time of year when reality seems to buckle and split, a single braided rope fraying into parallel manic and depressive strands. Holiday cheer everywhere, LED lights and joyous inflatable Santas in the front yards, all framed by the unendingly grey sky, sun setting at 4 PM, cold
I have sat with the knowledge of that night for ever such a long time now. I have flirted with the idea of telling someone â maybe the police â or confiding in a counselor, but I know it will do little good. They would think me mad, even my
Jerry Southerland Read More »
The obnoxious buzzing from the dryer that signaled the end of the cycle came up faintly from the basement. Shane could already feel Jenâs eyes boring into the side of his head. Shane kept his attention on the baseball game that was playing out on the TV. âAre you going
My long, spindly legs silently clamber across the crumbling wall of the basement wall as I stalk my prey. A few more strides, and I sink my fangs deep into the side of my helpless victim’s abdomen as it uselessly struggles to free itself from my grip. But I haven’t
