Rhino Skin | A Quiet Courage, June 9, 2017, online
High Tech | Fifty Word Stories, October 14, 2016, online
Accident | Tiny Text, November 28, 2016, online
Questions Alex Asked His Wife Before She Left | Intrinsick, June 2016, online
The Playground | A3 Review, Issue 3, September 2015, 1st Place contest winner, print
Every Star Has A Story | Crack the Spine, 15th Anthology Issue, Spring 2017, print available on Amazon.com
Bathroom Break | Brilliant Flash Fiction, 3rd place contest winner, online
Much Better | Firewords Quarterly, Issue #6, print
Music As Her Refuge | The Dead Mule School for Southern Literature, July 2017 | online.
Archangels | Easy Street, December 5, 2016, online
I Bought Bernie's Sofa | The Mused Literary Review, Volume 10, Issue 3, Fall 2016, online
A Blue Moon | Literary Orphans, Issue #27, November 2016, online
On Opening the Door | Readers' Notes, Ruminate, June 15, 2017 print
Clearing Out Daddy's Basement | Tell Us A Story, Volume 4, Issue #1, July 14, 2016, online
In The Company of Other Writers | North Carolina Literary Review, Number 25, 2016, print
High Horse | ArtAscent, September 2016, pages 16 - 17. Gold Writer, print
Today is Our Jet Stream | Postcard Poems and Prose Magazine, November 8, 2016, online
Inside My Closet | Poetry South, 2016 Issue, print
Type a Little Faster | Where's My Tiara Anthology?, Fall 2017
Dry Creek | Inside the Bell Jar, October 2017
She Wants | Blue Heron Review, Winter 2018
The Collection: Flash Fiction for Flash Memory | Launch: March 2018
Interviews, Features & Presentations
Interview, Trish Hopkinson: A Selfish Poet Blog, September 2017
Writers: Get Published! workshop, May 17, 2017
2017 Raleigh-Durham Listen to Your Mother, In My Bones, live performance May 5, 2017.
Featured Gold Writer, ArtAscent, 2016
Submission Parties Salon, International Women's Writing Guild, Summer Conference, 2016
Wordsmith Interview, Crack the Spine, March 11, 2016
“And it’s true, what they say, about traumatic events almost seeming like they happen in slow motion. The security guard knocked Saul off his feet; Mr. Johnson ran down the hall to his office, and Billie screamed to call 911 though I wasn’t sure why. When I released my hand from my throat, I felt the rush of blood. Some part of me watched its flow down my chest, down my skirt, and finally its splatter across the beige carpet at my feet. The pooling spread to the wall which I believe I fell against but that’s as much as I remember.”
"Carl paces on the edge of his property line like a dog restricted by an invisible fence. The tip of his cigarette glows. I take a last look at the rising moon shimmering against the darkening sky. The moon babbles louder and sharper tonight like the raucous gathering of birds before a bad storm."
"I never planned to stay after Daddy died, two days before my seventeenth birthday. Had high hopes to go to college. I still recall nodding when Mama said her boys needed an education more than a girl. They’d have families to support. It’s a notion I’ve twirled like cotton candy in my head these many years while you boys scattered away.”
I regret my promise to meet Karen at O’Malley’s as I enter the bar and see hundreds of threads sway in a random dance. I forgot how bars attract the broken. The swirling fibers themselves never alarm me, seeing them twist on others is as natural as breathing air. But the dense cluster of so many at once knocks the wind out of me. Focused on the checkered tile floor, I navigate the fraying cloud, making my way to the bar. Order a shot of scotch on the rocks.