Tag Archives: 100 Days 2012

Word Count:  246 The leaf lettuce is fanned out and formed from pale chartreuse voile. The brussels sprouts from pipecleaners and blue-green taffeta moire. The peas are from silk strung on wrapped florist wire and the tomatoes are satin-covered styrofoam … Continue reading →

Word Count:  154 Some summer nights now I lay down under the moon in the cucumber patch. Feel the tiny prickles of their stems on bare skin. Feel the soft leaves like hands on my body, caressing my breasts. In … Continue reading →

Word Count:  110 She watered the pepper plants with arsenic. Imagined it winding its way through the stems to the veins of the leaves. She fed indigo ink to the roots of tomatoes, turning them plump and a violent purpley-pink. … Continue reading →

Word Count:  236 He lives in a basement apartment. Must stretch at the small window over the sink to look at the moon. He waits all the long month for the full blue one, the one that won’t slice into … Continue reading →

Word Count:  230 Once a year I drive up here, two hundred miles each way. Every year on your birthday, or if it snows bad, on the anniversary of your death in June. Just because I will always remember. Just … Continue reading →

Word Count:  381 Chuck comes home on a Friday with a sorrowful face, a belly of beer, and a layoff slip clutched in his hand.  Lena feels that awful turmoil as her own belly moves with new life. She’s been … Continue reading →

Word count:  118 I’m fast. Can catch hummingbirds zipping by in my hands. Snap their necks in under three seconds. Watch the ruby-throat feathers catch the light of the sun. I can outrun the cats who howl in the night … Continue reading →

Word Count: 263 It was wondrous, joyous, everything they’d promised it would be. That amazing and terrible moment when you take the dare, crush all inside of you threatening your freedom of fear. When you come face to face with … Continue reading →

Word Count:  375 I had heard that she’d painted the walls red, deep red, which was all that would cover the stains that would bleed right through three, four coats of paint, even deep evergreen like the old firs that … Continue reading →

Word Count: 485 She painted the kitchen first, a rich deep red like her mother’s, that first kitchen she remembered of her childhood, upstairs from her grandparents, her father’s folks. She painted the cabinets bone white because she couldn’t remember … Continue reading →