Conjugal Hyperglycemia

I can’t recall how the argument began. It was one of those marital spats that started as nothing and became something it never should’ve been. Sweet grapes unexpectedly crushed, boiled, and barreled until they were so acidic they could cut tongues.

Black Sugar (excerpt)

The house where I live is deep in the woods. The driveway is overgrown with moss. A defiant mushroom has pushed up through the tar where the drive meets the street. How its roots wound their way under and up, I cannot imagine. It is ready to pick, or poison.

Donner, Party of Two (excerpt)

Looking up from where I lie freezing, I blink into the terrifying vast, into the violent white consuming the trees, the mountains, all and everything, until my mind also goes white, and I become more and more tired, drifting slowly into the final sleep. Then, interrupting my thoughts, Billy will say with his mouth full, “You mind if I steal a few fries?”

Striking a Minor (excerpt)

They’d had an intense courtship—dinners at all the cult restaurants in town, weekend trips to Montauk and Paris, lots of sex and missed work days—and then a spontaneous city hall wedding on the other end of an all-night, molly-fueled bender. Anne’s teeth were vibrating when she said, “I do.”