A Flame of Bones
An epic stew – modern outdoor cuisine for today’s working warlord
Flash Fiction
Get In Losers, We’re Cosplaying as Christine McVie in 1979 All Summer
I’m wearing a denim dress and big aviator sunglasses like Christine in one of the Tusk recording sessions outtake videos.
butter Flies
Flies know death. The cold carcass of the body a grand hiding place from the seasons.
19 Ways of Crossing the Street After the Old Guy In the Sedan Jerks to a Last-Minute Stop in the Vons Parking Lot Crosswalk and Motions for You to Pick Up the Pace, Can’t You See He Didn’t Want to Stop For You in the First Place, Lady?
Imagining a possible legitimate reason for his impatience
He’s Afraid of all the Happiness
He shrieks that I’m hiding fun from him because I know where he is and I won’t pretend otherwise, and groans to himself he needs to do a better job hiding—he’s so bad at it.
Hestia is Sick of Your Shit
And it’s not that she would mind except for the fact that she’s a goddess, and that heat—which she had so lovingly doted on, coaxing it from the cold stone hearth for thousands of years—doesn’t seem to be enough these days.
Ten Reasons
She falls in and out of sleep, flips between episodes of dreams. Her mother’s screaming from inside a flooded urn, “Let me out of here!” Kitty’s playing Toss the Onion Ring, Mona’s mouth as target.