Writer
Published on mother.ly Other parents like to tell me I’m lucky that my children sleep. That they sleep in their own rooms, in their own beds, with sound machines and night lights and their favorite plush unicorns…
First published at Reckon Review Our mother rescued a mutt after we all grew up and left her. She had been abandoned, she said. The mutt had, too. I had escaped to college; my brothers…
Published in The Hellebore. The mirror is brand new, freshly installed by the builder of our new home, and when I look into it, I can still smell the crispness of the eggshell-white paint on…
Published in Beaver Magazine. What is the word for a mother who has lost a child? It is not widow, or woman, or childless, or unmothered. It is geyser. She seethes, acrid bubbles of rage…
Published by HAD. The last time I saw the man who fired my mother for grieving her son’s death for five days instead of the three days of bereavement he’d so graciously suggested, he was…
First published in The Corvus Review. Save me your corks, mother said, so I popped a bottle of prosecco, a cork sprung from the rim, and a dainty glass to drink from. It was sweet…
First published in Fatal Flaw Literary Magazine. There is a species of frog, the gastric-brooding frog, that births babies from its mouth. They haven’t been seen since 1983, are believed to be extinct. The mother…
First published in Variant Lit. Life was: family of five, water balloon battles in the backyard, family dinners answering mother’s daily questions (What made you happy today? What made you sad). My father was Captain…
First published by Scrawl Place. In the fall, we go camping; we drive for five hours to get to Smoke Hole, West Virginia, even though there are plenty of campsites around Baltimore, even though there…
First published by (mac)ro(mic). The dollhouse has a gaping hole on the side facing east, a four-inch hollow overlapping the first and second floors, its splintered edges stretching into the kitchen with the checkered floor…