My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.

If you’re trying to carve wise sayings for eternity to read in a newly poured sidewalk you don’t want to be struggling for meaning while the cement is wet.

I would read her stories on quiet summer days as we sat along the river, just the two of us stretched out in the tall grass, hidden in the shade of the pine trees lining the banks of the Mullica while a gentle breeze cooled our skin. She liked the way I read to…

I am brokenJust a sliver of what I used to beNot used to missing youStill.After months,You don't think of meAnd it breaks me.Every morning...by the time I've hit the closetI've thought of you.Throughout the dayI think of you.It is my hard place.I can't get over itOr around…

I didn't much care for the graveyard anymore now that so many people I knew where layin' in it.

Cold hurts at first, but you wake up.

I am seven and it is in one of those spring stretches where temperatures proceed enough to make walking acceptable if not amicable. Pop cans and chip bags once boasting glossy surfaces and daring hues now faded to match asphalt fields. Other bits of things…

The woman broke the law with that scream. I would say that there was pleasure in it, for her. I would also estimate that ten or fifteen men saw it, ten or fifteen men plus me.

He cut the heads off, and in doing this, their eyes came off. He placed the four discs on the windowsill next to the petrified avocado pit and Chia Pet clay shell. The eyes glittered like globs of jam.

A small flame of gossip began at one end of the table and began to spread like a wildfire at the first mention of Diane Morgan’s name. “That little red-faced slut stole my boyfriend from me,” I overheard Maryann Blakely saying. “I could have been Prom Que

Another hard week tired but make the effort

It shows how ignorant your typical writer for a men's magazine read primarily by teenage boys can be. You must treat every woman as if she is a customer at a major appliance store.

Horses pulled carts loaded with valuables at backbreaking speed. King Street was one of the steepest in the city making the steeds’ task most difficult in deed. Their chest covered in foam and their eyes wild with fear. Their clattering hoofs gripped

Times were tough. They met out on the right-of-way on Highway 61 heading south, each trying to hitch a ride to New Orleans where they might find work. Albert walked up to her lugging a saxophone in a scuffed up case. Mamie had old cloth suitcase. After handshake bona fides…

The washing machine at home was broken. It was an old leaky Maytag. A discouraging mess—twisted panties, sky-blue jeans, and an old lover or two or three floating downstream (the reverse of spawning salmon). Each man was slightly drowned,…