From the Print

Stir

The innkeeper drugged us first with free wine, and chopped us up, one at a time, while we were asleep. I woke while he was stirring us.

Bad Mexican Food

The clock on the wall was red. It said 3:37. Tick. Tick. Tick. The paint running dry, the rim cracked and falling to pieces. I went to the bathroom. It said OMBRES which any idiot knows is spelled wrong.

Shaking Hand

Sometimes, if the dwarf sits quietly enough at his wooden desk under the warm orange glow of his aluminum department store lamp, his mind begins searching across a barren desert for things to write about, and soon an orchestra begins to perform outside the cracked midnight window to his right.

All I Ever Wanted

When Mom found my stash like she had drug dog senses or something, she made a huge deal then called me into her bathroom, my sack in one hand and the cordless in the other, threatening to call Dad, which of course she never did.

Still-Life with Bookshelf

One more last-call load: that fat stack of battered paperbacks
Half-packed in bootleg boxes, leftover cardboard,
Makeshift hymnals reinforced with duct-taped crosses