Up Shit’s Tree Without A Ladder
I was about six-years-old. We lived in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, but frequently visited my dad in Marathon as he started up a business there. For a short time, he rented… Read more Up Shit’s Tree Without A Ladder →
The Water Wars
Jeff’s mom thought he smelled like feet and skin and unwashed hair, but she leaned in anyway for a sweaty hug. “Do not leave your book bag there.” He spun… Read more The Water Wars →
That Little Black Dress
Natalie’s skin felt wet, especially where it counted; the crook of her elbow. He grabbed a blood-stained kitchen towel and dragged it across the area before aiming and shooting. She… Read more That Little Black Dress →
BLUE MARKET FICTION 