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The memories were always at their worst on clear mornings, especially when she had been cleaning. The smell of fresh linen filled the home and the dryer hummed steadily in the background. This used to be comforting to her, and in the back of her mind, she registered this. SheContinue Reading

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(with fond memories of playing monsters with my brothers) The fight was going well,all destruction and other people’s blood,the kind of fight a monster could be proud ofuntil the duck flew in through the window. A raven would have been alright.That would have been in keeping with the mood.A crowContinue Reading

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For Rosie, and Madalynne, and Ethan(and Bo and Ruth) Dear God,it’s February.And the light paints her pink,[and I’m still a plagiarist,]gawking into my cell phone on the side of 10th Street. My brother and I got new tattoos andI got a concussion fixing my engine andShe has my middle name,myContinue Reading

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I. Papa takes you to the tracksand lays the pennies on the rails.The bushes are frothy withQueen Anne’s Lace. Fireweed and loosestrifespindle and spike.Some kind of nettlehas to be watched for. Gravel plinks the steelas we head for cover,crushing springy buttercupsand clover as we go. A smell, ferrous, poised,riotously secret,Continue Reading

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“You gotta sneak up on a crow,” the old man said. “They’s real smart. Crows are.”“Yes, sir,” the boy whispered and crouched low as they crept toward the cornfield. Although his grandfather was a tall man, he was bent in places where he had the “arthur-ritis” which afflicted him especiallyContinue Reading

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Favorite crayon color, skybloomed as a rose.Gem and the Hologram pink hair,Lazy Lapis Lazuli Lobster that I could walk on a leashand take for picnics of purple peppers and bouillon cubesoverlooking mountains of ice cream cones.Dreamt up under the ironing board orcrawled into the box spring orimagined under a blueberryContinue Reading

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She walked barefooted each step grazing the sinking sand, her sandals hung over her shoulders with the support of her clumsy hand, holding a plastic bottle in the other. She walked past a couple smiling into each other’s eyes, hands intertwined, shoulders slightly brushing. She could tell they were obliviousContinue Reading

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When I was six and seven years old, The Beatles broke up, Manson was convicted, Apollo 13 nearly crashed into the moon, the American War Against Vietnam was grinding on with my eldest brother soon to be facing the draft, and I learned to hate school with great passion, moreContinue Reading

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I am the daughter of immigrants and grew up in a small community in southeastern Louisiana. I am a freelance digital and traditional illustrator. Although mostly specialized in Children’s Illustration, I enjoy working in a variety of prose and art styles. My work features diverse characters with a range ofContinue Reading

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When you are twoNo is your favorite wordand kisses are magic.The sky is always bluewith cotton cloudsWhen it rains, you singgo away, go awayand it does. I am lifted by yourbeliefthat all is well,or will be. Kissesmake it bettereven if it still hurts. You area child of lightfor such aContinue Reading