Fiction
Nuin
THE SO-CALLED spirit of place is drawn mid-song toward the ash tree erupting through the sold-off edgeland, a straggly, ragged middle-aged gangly thing, with a half-dead crown, with a diamond lesion Continue reading
Fiction
Fiction
The Blob
WE FOUND the star jelly in the street, halfway between home and the park where our cousins were waiting. My brother tried to run his bike through it, but I stuck Continue reading
Feature
Once There Were Wolves
There is a woman in the audience holding a sign that reads CIGARETTES AND WOLVES, KILLERS THAT COME IN PACKS and a kid waving one that says WILL THERE BE ANY DEER LEFT WHEN I GROW UP? I roll my eyes. Continue reading
Feature
Appleseed
What makes an orchard? Nothing more than apple seeds and dank, dark earth, plus the labors and hopes of men: every seed the brothers plant is a dream of a tree grown, every completed nursery a belief in a more productive future. Continue reading
Feature
Animal Planet
The owls had been waiting for our demise since 1662 —the year the dodo went extinct. Rid from the earth thanks to hungry sailors. Humans, at first, couldn’t believe the bird Continue reading