A Brief For The Defense

“So let’s talk, you and I, now that we’ve both failed as writers.” “I think twenty-seven is a bit young for failure. And how old are you? I...

He is in the wood when the rain starts; in the thicket of cedar and oak. The titter and prattle resounds off the creek like the morose laugh...

No traffic today, it’s winter and I am here without you. The sea grey as slate falling away off the continent, inflamed with the high phosph...

He has lied to everyone about his whereabouts. He is marooned at sea or in the desert with a small batch of sour mash whiskey, a sumptuous m...

Come home with me. He folds her hand under his like the surf of Lake Michigan tosses and rolls a stone. Softly eroding her knuckles. Come ho...

A dour pewter morning after a night of dense rain. She goes for a run but her body is not willing; legs like cinder, heart like a drum. She ...