Creative Non-Fiction
Excerpt from "The Gift", published in The Great Lake Review, Spring 2008
...She sits behind her tattered notebook, this mini-version of myself. Her fourteen year-old inquisitive stare makes me proud to call her sister. An English assignment has put us here in her bedroom with a list of questions and my readiness to assist.
"What is the craziest thing you've ever done?" I chuckle to myself and dive into my own personal memory bank, back stroking between summers and school years to find an answer.
Suddenly it comes to me along with a look of distant bitterness.
"Craziest thing I've ever done? Told someone how I felt."
She smiles at me with satisfaction, "Good answer."...
"What is the craziest thing you've ever done?" I chuckle to myself and dive into my own personal memory bank, back stroking between summers and school years to find an answer.
Suddenly it comes to me along with a look of distant bitterness.
"Craziest thing I've ever done? Told someone how I felt."
She smiles at me with satisfaction, "Good answer."...
Excerpt from "Momster", published in The Great Lake Review, Fall 2007
...Scrape. Thud.
Light cascades into the room outlining the towering shadow of terror. Blink a few times to adjust the pupils and then melt yourself into the pastel plaster. Steady, heavy footsteps creak closer edging on the boundaries of the darkness. From the far corner a small gasp escapes the tiniest pair of lips exposing her small shaking figure.
“I see you,” a low rumble sounds from somewhere deep within the bowels of the demon.
If I can’t see it, it can’t see me. Close my eyes to shield myself from the chase. The bed above me creaks and a small rush of air brushes my hand covered face. Involuntarily my eyes shoot open to see the protruding bed springs bending under a large body. It’s so close I can almost hear it breathing.
Without warning a rough hand shoots between the bed sheets and the wall grabbing hard onto my clothes.
“Ah!”...
Light cascades into the room outlining the towering shadow of terror. Blink a few times to adjust the pupils and then melt yourself into the pastel plaster. Steady, heavy footsteps creak closer edging on the boundaries of the darkness. From the far corner a small gasp escapes the tiniest pair of lips exposing her small shaking figure.
“I see you,” a low rumble sounds from somewhere deep within the bowels of the demon.
If I can’t see it, it can’t see me. Close my eyes to shield myself from the chase. The bed above me creaks and a small rush of air brushes my hand covered face. Involuntarily my eyes shoot open to see the protruding bed springs bending under a large body. It’s so close I can almost hear it breathing.
Without warning a rough hand shoots between the bed sheets and the wall grabbing hard onto my clothes.
“Ah!”...