A selection of stories and essays
Short stories
"Bingo," North Carolina Literary Review
The magnified mirror reflected my shaky hand as I put on my jet-black liquid eyeliner. I removed the foam curlers from my short hair and teased it out as far as I possibly could without exposing the scalp peeking out underneath. I didn't plan on growing old overnight, but damn if it didn't happen. My hair turned white and thin, I found folds on my skin that I could stick a finger in, and I was wearing polyester pants with elastic waistbands. It was official.
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"Dance Lessons," Emrys Journal
I'm sitting in a gas station that's been converted into a church of sorts, the Inner Space. It doesn't smell of gasoline and diesel now; it smells of jasmine incense and Carpet Fresh. Irma, the housewife from Jasper, and Clark, the DJ from WJAQ, sit on either side of me. Lena is in the middle of the circle, getting her head shaved, and we're chanting in monotone voices, saying "Ommm ... ," like people do when they joke about meditating.
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"Bingo," North Carolina Literary Review
The magnified mirror reflected my shaky hand as I put on my jet-black liquid eyeliner. I removed the foam curlers from my short hair and teased it out as far as I possibly could without exposing the scalp peeking out underneath. I didn't plan on growing old overnight, but damn if it didn't happen. My hair turned white and thin, I found folds on my skin that I could stick a finger in, and I was wearing polyester pants with elastic waistbands. It was official.
Read more...
"Dance Lessons," Emrys Journal
I'm sitting in a gas station that's been converted into a church of sorts, the Inner Space. It doesn't smell of gasoline and diesel now; it smells of jasmine incense and Carpet Fresh. Irma, the housewife from Jasper, and Clark, the DJ from WJAQ, sit on either side of me. Lena is in the middle of the circle, getting her head shaved, and we're chanting in monotone voices, saying "Ommm ... ," like people do when they joke about meditating.
Read more...
Essays
"Watching Our Daughter Bloom", Adoptive Families
A father-to-be recently told my husband, Robert, “I know you wouldn’t trade your daughter for anything, but this experience is amazing.” He was speaking of his wife’s pregnancy, their first, and he was caught up in the marvel of biology. For us, conception happened when our agency sent us an e-mail. Robert forwarded me the message and waited on the phone. We scrolled down the screen together until a round-faced, 12-month-old Russian girl stared back at us with blue-gray eyes.
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"Watching Our Daughter Bloom", Adoptive Families
A father-to-be recently told my husband, Robert, “I know you wouldn’t trade your daughter for anything, but this experience is amazing.” He was speaking of his wife’s pregnancy, their first, and he was caught up in the marvel of biology. For us, conception happened when our agency sent us an e-mail. Robert forwarded me the message and waited on the phone. We scrolled down the screen together until a round-faced, 12-month-old Russian girl stared back at us with blue-gray eyes.
Read more...