At first it was just holding hands and talking about Ricky's condition. Then it was leaning into each other on the sofa, Ben whispering my name into my hair, me wanting to put my hand on his thigh.

He didn’t used to smell that way, like a rained-on boot, like the insides of a lived-on couch. ... He used to smell like he wore light, subcutaneous cologne.

We decide not to go to the emergency room

Bobby raises his wine glass in a toast, I raise mine in return, and we touch them lightly to each other, oh so lightly, as if we are afraid the glass will shatter.

And the voodoo pins pinged as, folding and imploding, she was reduced to a petro-chemical puddle.

Julie studied her brush, plucking a strand of hair from it. She looked up and smiled. "My mother thought you were a peeper."

It’s no surprise when Mark comes home drunk, nor is it unexpected when he grabs me roughly by the arm and slaps my face because I didn’t have dinner waiting for him. The difference is that this night tears spring to my darkened eyes and slide down my swol

Megan Collier clutched the metal sill of her window, torn between fear and intrigue. Though not her first film expedition, it was her first trip to the African continent. Seasoned and well-paid, this crew had weathered precarious situations before. The dr