The American Talisman

I have a deep abiding love for convenience stores. They are clean and succinct. They don’t require anything extra of me, neither bra nor brush, conversation or confrontation. They give me protein, caffeine, and those pillowy  “Bon Appetit” cream danishes that can set the worst of worlds to rights. There are lots of convenience stores…

People will pay you to be inhumane.

The papers were not in the order they’d been given to me on the clipboard. The writing on them was a silent, jagged screech of protest against clipboards that are bigoted against left-handers, though I’d be hard pressed to explain how a flat board accomplishes this. I just know it does. Also, I hate paperwork.…

Goodwill, Unopened and Cruel.

Crystal died so fast.

She never knew what to make of me. Our daughters had been best frenemies since age six, their squealing little naked bodies careening through our small house, slipping on laminate, streaking from their daring “night swim” in our inflatable Intex Quik-Set into a hot shower.