Fiction

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published in Narrative Magazine (2020)

It was a hot clear day in early July 1991, and each time Sam’s father pointed at something and said, “Here we go, big man, picture opportunity,” that was the picture Sammy took. Russ said, “The salty dog there,” and Sam turned his Polaroid on the ragged man standing with his cooler and pole at the breakwater’s spray-tossed end. Russ said, “Lifeguards, three o’clock,” and Sam captured the two bronze icons in their tower. 

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"The House at the End of the Road"​
published in Conjunctions: Nocturnals (2019)

When they heard the uncle’s tires in the gravel driveway the brothers abandoned their cereal and crept into the living room where their mother and her boyfriend were asleep on the couch. The older brother climbed onto a chair, lifted their father’s rifles off the pegs above the TV, and handed the younger boy the smaller of the two. Its name was Angel and it was a Winchester .308 with iron sights and an old lusterless stock. For himself he kept Matilda, a .264 magnum, same company, 4x4 scope. They were eleven and thirteen years old.