The young man with blond curls was immortal, an instrument of some ancient, evil force. He’d committed terrible crimes against my family, tried to kill us by bombing a building we were staying in. When we cornered him at last, we beat him until he would have died, had he been mortal. His body was … Continue reading The Damned Eaves
I think this was the first one. It's the oldest one I can find, anyway. Mom says I was about eighteen months old, so as of this posting, this would be approximately forty-eight and a half.
I was part of a team sent to represent the Lincoln chapter of PFLAG at a national convention in Arkansas. The convention was at a church, in a town where much of the industry that had kept it alive had dried up, leaving whole blocks deserted and streets in disrepair. The church was also a … Continue reading Hunters Become the Prey
A great darkness had fallen over the city of Lincoln, placing all power in the hands of a very few, making it so we could not get jobs and were persecuted for not conforming. A group of us went to a big trailer in the Near South neighborhood that had been converted into a church, … Continue reading Sopranos and Dead Cats
I was a teenager again, living on the farm. A girl my age named Laura came to live with us. She looked like my old college roommate, with pale skin and long, dark brown hair. Her sister had died a violent death and her brother had died of some degenerative disease. I didn’t know what … Continue reading Dream Girl in White Convertible
When I was little, I had a children’s storybook about the friendship between Mary and her cousin Elizabeth. The one thing that stuck with me was this picture of the two women walking along a street together as, in a tree high above them, a large owl of indeterminate species gazed down at them. That … Continue reading The Awl and the Orm
