Our parents knew a serial killer paced the railroad tracks in East End, 1960 Superior, and they threatened us with death should we go search for him,
Off I-80, Nevada
I watch the signs on the side of the long straight highway looking for animation
Anecdotal Evidence of Summer and Magellan
gopher trail yellow jacket nest one laced wing of a termite skin-flaked chapstick windburn
Fatherhood
I kept both hands on the wheel as I slowed to a stop. I’ve never had any problems, but sometimes my tattoo sleeves rubbed law enforcement the wrong way. They saw me as sort of a Colin Kaepernick, just shorter, less attractive, and with absolutely no talent.
Such a Thing as Permanence
“We still have to pay. Too much,” he said. His words were getting stuck in his nostrils as he tried to speak and would sputter them out. His steps were slow and the linoleum had the evening’s story spattered all over it.