When Jenny pulled her key from the lock, she tugged the knobs to make sure the steady red church doors were locked and held in place. Then she pulled her shawl tight across her back, and held her choir books close to her body. The sky shone above like a milky onion soup; a haze of cream and brown. The wind was picking up as she stepped down the steps and onto the concrete. She removed a strand of red hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. She looked down at her new boots she had br...

“Are you sure Eskarne?” She asks, her hair falling over one shoulder in a tight braid. The red of it looked like flames consuming her neck. Her eyes were shaded in big, oversized black shades that had recently came back into fashion. Her lips were a shade of pink toned flesh that only is begotten from heavy kissing. She wore no lipcolor over it in an acute awareness of her beauty and power. No line or blemish on her face was shaded by her with concealers or cremes, although her eyes were kept...

Jacob stared across the table, blank eyes slanted from the shivering in his body that had her cheeks piled high on their frame. The ceiling fan blew cool air onto them. "Can't we turn that damn thing off?" Hismother stopped stirring the dishwater in a pot that had somehow amassed a ring around the inside, and turning towards Jacob, rolled her eyes. Then she opened her mouth, with silver needles in her voice, "No. You wouldn't be so cold if you weren't dressed like a prostitute." Jacob ignored...

I have my last memory of Anna. I see her in the little garage at her house. I can only speculate as to what she was doing and thining, but I bet it was something like this. Anna tucked a handful of nails into her apron pocket as she grabbed the hammer off the shelf. Her mind was made up. She'd have to stay. She'd outlast this storm. She went forth ou of the cool darkness of the little garage into the bright light of day. The day was young, beautiful, and haz. Hardly any sign is here of the s...

She slammed the keyboard against the back of the desk. "Damn." She got up, collected herself, her knuckles still throbbing from the sudden rush of rage. She found him in the kitchen. "What the hell are you doing?" Her husband looked up at her. "I'm tired." She could feel the leftover anger in her forehead throbbing out. "That doesn't explain anything." He looked up from where his head had laid on the table. "It does." She walked over to him and took the bag off the table. Inside was a white ...

"Are you sure Eskarne?" She asks, her hair falling over one shoulder in a tight braid. The red of it looked like flames consuming her neck. Her eyes shaded in big, oversized black shades that came back into style and her lips in this perfect shade of pink and flesh. They were the sort of pink that you get from kissing, and she wore no lipcolor over it. She seems to be aware of the very nature of her beauty; since she is wearing no makeup to conceal any lines or blemishes. The only thing she h...

Turning Twenty seemed easily done No act on my part to spur it on no indifference to the date; It comes like death. Like death comes twenty, stabbing ideals bloody trinklets of innocence rising from sheets embroidered with power rangers leftover from youth the only power left is the one in my pen. the end of this period is the end of life now it is rush and go to be stabbed from behind by cakes that I no longer receive and gift cards instead of action figures that dwindle in the mail box each...

He rose off her slowly, but steadily. Her hair laid madly over her shouilder. It stuck slightly to him by the perspiration of his chest. He was thrifty with his time; making sure to pull his clothes off the table on the Veranda, leaving her in the lounge chair. She lay there with her blouse torn open and her skirt hiked up over her navel so that it resembled a belt in an odd way. She was a goddess lying there-- even if her rash from his beard running over her breasts said otherwise. She wasn...

I said I wanted you to rest well; but secretly wished behind my normal words. I wished that your dreams would haunt you. I wanted your dreams to not give you any rest; only memories, snaphots, and remembrances of my passing you by on the street, or at the library perhaps. I wanted your dreams to enfold you in humidity and stillness. I wanted the taste of them to slide over your lips like my kisses; I wanted the touch of the memories to slide along your spine like my hands might have done. I d...

The old woman kneeled in her garden, speaking into a cordless phone, her wide hat concealing her wrinkled face from the bright April sun. "Of course I will not go," she said, pulling a long weed from the side of the pomegranate tree. She was on her knees, cradling the telephone to her ear with her shoulder. "No, I did get the message from her, but I have a lot to do out here in the yard, so I better just stay in tonight." She took off her gloves, allowing her wet palms to breathe the spring a...