“Watchperson,” in Heavy Feather Review
“—a knife blade punched her window. And again. Little divots in the glass. Matte black survival knife. Flying into the pane like a bird, beak-first.”
Forthcoming in Heavy Feather Review, Fall 2020
“Once Nothing, Twice Shatter”
in The Iowa Review
“Luther buys cars. It’s what he does and it’s what his billboard says he does—LUTHER BUYS CARS. He bought my dad’s car. He bought the mayor’s car. He came to a surprise party for my mom’s sixty-fifth and left with her Sportage.”
Published in The Iowa Review, Issue 49/2, Fall 2019
in Cincinnati Review
“Our drummer wants to know how our spirits are. He’s the only one who thinks we’ll make it.”
Published in Cincinnati Review, Issue 16.2, Fall 2019.
“Of a Whole Body”
in Necessary Fiction
“Eve escaped once. Of course, words cause debate. To her it was escape. To Virgil, it was a suicide attempt. Norma went with protest.
Published in Necessary Fiction, Fall 2019.
“The Trans Am”
“His mother said a good cry grew in your gut—a bad cry, in your brain.”
Published in JMWW, Fall 2019. Nominated for a Best Microfictions 2020.
“The producer wanted wet hands. Sweaty and tense to where the sound really snapped. “
Published in Craft, June 2019
“Cowboy Man, Major Player”
in Many Loops
“Cowboy Dan finds himself in a meme.”
Published in Many Loops, June 2019
“Where the Rubies Live”
in Philadelphia Stories
“The night before I became a salesman I was wired and awake in Derek’s room, gazing out his window, reading his Anatomy textbook, and eating peanut butter with a knife. ”
Published in Philadelphia Stories, Summer 2019
“Spit if You Call it Fear,”
in Cream City Review
“Waylon still ain’t over Y2K. He’s my brother, and I love him, but Jesus, I won’t miss him.”
Published in Cream City Review, Spring 2019
” South Dakota stretches out like a cold, brown, made bed. It’s been two years, but I still can’t find comfort here.”
Published in Phoebe, Summer 2019. Winner of the 2019 Fiction Prize. Nominated for a 2019 Pushcart Prize.
“They found my son—this was back in middle school—tucked inside a trash tote. The administration said Quentin’s aim had been to woo, by way of shock, the lone lady custodian.”
Published in Meridian, Issue 33, Winter 2019
in The Forge
“My boss pronounces Corgi with a soft ‘g’.”
Published in The Forge. This story is a reprint and was originally published in Knee Jerk Magazine in the summer of 2015
“I’ve heard that a human leg can snap like a twig, but this kid’s snapped like a rubber band. “
Published in Wigleaf , March 2019. Read an additional Wigleaf Postcard (mini-essay).
“Breakthrough Mailboxes of Southern PA”
“Across the street, the young, blonde entrepreneurs have opened for business at the end of their driveway, cardboard signs advertising the sale of their small sister.”
Published in Subtropics, Issue 26, Winter 2019.
“Spiritual Introduction to the Neighborhood”
in Kenyon Review
“One once witnessed, in the quick dark of an autumn night, two youths coming down Claw on skateboards, holding hockey sticks against the asphalt, producing startling orange sparks. “
Published in Kenyon Review, Volume XL, Jan/Feb 2019. Runner up in the 2018 Short Fiction Contest.
“Come Live With Me on This Shitty Island”
in Prime Number Magazine
“The skywriter flew CALL YR GRANDPAP BACK. The skywriter flew HES YR FRIEND.”
Published in Prime Number Magazine, Issue 149, January 2019. Winner of the Press 53 Flash Fiction Contest.
“The Species, Broadly”
in The Collagist
“Two women on the ottoman thought about the species, broadly. The third about a bird nest fallen in her yard.”
Published in The Collagist, Issue 100, December 2018.
“Ms. Badislav’s Vomit”
in Outlook Springs
“Our church had a drive-thru window.”
Published in Outlook Springs, Issue 5, November 2018. Nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
in Gulf Coast
“In Jersey, we did neither. My boyfriend and I just rode the elevator.”
Published in Gulf Coast, Issue 30.2, June 2018
“Out of Nowhere”
“Just as our plane began to move, a pilot sat beside me. I awakened. Awoke? I don’t know—I woke up.
Published in Yemassee, Issue 25.1, June 2018
in Wohe Lit
“The brothers planned to treat the wedding like a family reunion, intended to prove who was still and who was never.”
Published in Wohe Lit, Issue 1, March 2018
in Bat City Review
“Friends, you only ever wanted to know why. Hands against the glass, you demanded reasons, motivations, explanations, plans.”
Published in Bat City Review, Issue 14, March 2018
in Split Lip (Print)
“And when we leave the Galleria, we have each other and a mannequin arm.”
Published in Split Lip Print, Issue 1, March 2018. Nominated for Best Small Fictions 2019.
“Late Teens on Trash Night
“Trash night was instinct. Trash night was ours. Trash night with nothing we knew we owned. Trash night because. Fuck a sun. Trash night.”
Published in Fanzine, December 2017
“The Orbit of Us”
“If it’s ever love,” Dad says about Nurse Toni, “I think we’ll know it.” But we’ve been outside in a tornado and didn’t even know it.”
Published in Arcturus, November 2017. Winner of The Chicago Review of Books Fall 2017 Award for Fiction.
“On that Fishtown roof we laid down cardboard from the Papa John’s dumpster and danced. Two b-boys, but you were better.”
Published in Waxwing, Issue 12, June 2017. Finalist for 2017 Best of the Net.
“I am Pretending to be Something I am”
in Passages North
“Since he was sixteen, my son and I have been playing this game I call Empathy Chicken. It’s a little like a staring contest, except the loser is who respects the other first.”
Published in Passages North, May 2017
“Norwood Young America Women’s Book Club”
“We had novels, pitchers, notes, peeves, but that night, our subject was never not Jenna, how she’d tramped through the blizzard to the podiatrist’s office, arrow in her arm.”
Published in Matchbook, February 2017
“Whatever’s the Worst that Could Happen We Want”
in NANO Fiction
“Neither of us was a botanist, but breaking into the greenhouse was easy. And the wide booths at Chipotle made fondling possible.
Published in NANO Fiction 10, Jan 2017
“The Record We’re Writing”
in Mud Season Review
“The Sunday after all this happened, the Gettysburg Examiner reported that Austin Harris flipped his go-kart six times.”
Published in Mud Season Review, Issue #20, May 2016
“You’ll Have to Forgive Me”
“What stung about my father leaving was he took the dog but left me.”
Published in Monkeybicycle, May 2016
“The One About a Guy Walking into a Bar”
in Smokelong Quarterly
“There are three wounded party balloons on the oil-spotted concrete and a twilight-bluish circle center stage.”
Published in Smokelong Quarterly, March 2016
The above is a selected list of publications. Find a complete list here.