“The mosquito,” Uncle George once said, “is better off with a moose.”            What he meant was, better off with moose blood than human, because we lack what mosquitoes like.

          Tresses of the night sky hang over her face, obscuring her features. She is madness, and she calls the turbulent waves, forming a riptide beneath the surface. She is half-full, half-empty, this moon. Is

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura. -Dante   Canto I           Midway—or a little longer—upon the journey of our life, he found himself in a gloomy wood.  Too

        In the middle of my mother’s boring and heartbreaking funeral, I start to think about calling off the wedding. The feeling of Clara’s damp hand wrapped around mine is suddenly revolting to me in ways

The little girl and boy were screaming.           Not the bad screaming.           Not Mia’s screaming.           Lucretia stood in the outer schoolyard, looking through the fence

          Bakersfield is the type of haunt you tell new friends you’re from, not a place you grew up in. To survive, you have to make peace with the sun, wind and of course the

          Today, my doctor informed me of two life changing events. The first was that he diagnosed me with a terminal case of Alagille syndrome. This means I have insufficient duct capacity for bile to

          She drops the newspaper on the table, announcing, “They’re still killing people in Syria, you know. They say it’s over, but it’s not. Anyone can see that. It’s not.”          

          Nothing to do in this stupid town but hang out at the mall. We buy pretzels and talk about school shootings, try on earrings, poking them in and everything. Which you’re not supposed to