She’s Not Mine
A pizza delivery boy gets caught in the middle of a domestic argument in the wake of his own breakup.
i don’t know what to call it
no, that's what i want to call the. that's the book's. i'm titling it. nevermind.
(a video reading of two pieces.)
Cover Letter for The Cabin
This overwrought cover letter to a prospective publisher details one novelist's childhood, writing process and condiment obsession.
Subject
A film crew hired to document a wealthy child's life gets shaken up when the boy joins their crew on his sixteenth birthday.
Interradar
A tall, thin black woman in her thirties approached the walkway in front of their table. Janita quickly glanced at Blake, and then again. “There’s number one,” Blake said. “One for one.”
The Schedule
Henry looked back down to his schedule. It looked more detailed and busy than it had five minutes before; like Hieronymus Bosch logged it, like hyperactive spiders had danced in ink all over the page.
The Last Villagers
What a surprise this is for her. To see him sleeping in their bed, a solid shape. No longer just a ghost, stealing away then stealing home while the family slept.
Dancing Alone
He owned a sweater that she desperately hated. A girl he dated in college bought it for him while learning abroad in Copenhagen. Every time she saw him in it she was reminded of all the past arms that had embraced him. She tried to destroy it...
Time Capsule
My lover has the uncanny ability to leave footwear in inconvenient places: a slipper tilted against the wall, a flip-flop at the bottom of the stairs.
Losing It
What were you supposed to say? You thought about having a girlfriend and what that would mean. Someone to spend time with. Someone you could tell was beautiful. You couldn’t tell a friend she was beautiful. You looked up at Lindsey and shrugged.
So Many Roads
The plan is to take a bus from my brother Tom’s place in Bethesda to New York City for the last night of Phish’s run at Madison Square Garden. After the show, we’ll get on another bus back to Bethesda, sleep for a few hours, and then drive to Charlottesville to catch the last stop...
The Myth of Morality