I Am Ana

(Excerpt from “I Am Ana”) Short: “Cigarette”

Later that night, Ana walked to the bar to prove to Lindsey that the lighter still worked. She had called the lighter broken. “Fill it up then,” Lindsey replied, with her usual big smile, “and bring it tonight.” The gravity of these words did not escape Ana, who muttered, “T-tonight, […]

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favorite love story

Your favorite love story is mine too

There was this badass coworker of mine, a teacher who skedaddled to Hungary last year. We chatted a lot between classes, in the halls of our school. Who knows where he is now (as in, I haven’t messaged him in a while, and he’s probably still modeling three-piece suits on […]

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language

Mumbles

Sore-throated and restless, our hero today discovers the root.   He moved to a new city last week, and has been learning the language. Technically, it’s an old city, old language, since his family is from here originally. For this, something tells him he has returned to the city, although […]

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if the US stopped existing

If the US stopped existing . . .

America is a pretty important place. And yes I call it America, because that is how I grew up hearing it. I like the name, too, what’s there to say. A-mer-i-ca. Merica. Murica.   If it suddenly stopped existing, which if we believe what anyone says, could be any day […]

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short story

“Forever, for ever, or never”

The restroom was occupied.   So Margot danced to the center, where Gaspar and Linda were wrapped in a single embrace. When the couple noticed who was approaching, they made room.   “Happy birthday,” shouted Gaspar.   “You throw cool parties,” followed Linda.   Margot thanked the new couple, handing […]

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why I write

An exercise in self-definition: why I write

What if I told you a story?   Breakfast with mamá, galleria area Houston, 2014 — the year I came back home to live with my parents.   She hints at my finding a job as casually as she stirs the sugar in her coffee. I ruffle my nose. It […]

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ode to road blocks

Ode to Road Blocks: a praise in poetry and prose

Be water, my friend. Bruce Lee   Praise to the blocks, the stumbles and locks! They keep villains away, keep terror ad hoc. The purpose of a block is to channel, you know, a flow the consciousness doesn’t know; while laziness allows us to rock peace or pajamas. And what’s […]

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travel bucket-list

A Listicle of Fantasy Trips

Why not jot down the top ten bucket-list trips I would fancy? For now they are fantasy, that is deliberately wild. But thus all the more dreamy. Can you guess the common thread?   1. TRANS-SIBERSKI-EXPRESS The first would take a good two months, to do it real chill from […]

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where does inspiration come from

Where does inspiration come from? (A Lyric)

A poignant question, and I seem to have but an hour to ponder the thought. Thus I invite you to take your index finger and run it along the cracks of your vanity mirror, get it out of your matrix. This one’s on the penny side to-day. Ride.   Is […]

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The Summer Abroad a novel

A Draught of München: Chapter Excerpt from The Summer Abroad

Big-breasted women, five steins a hand, and charming men in green, short-short overalls stuffed each other’s mouths with bratwurst and beer till they couldn’t rock no more. Bavaria. Its capital: München. Things played out a little differently there for the boys and me, who had gotten used to the exaggerations […]

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artistic prostitution

Artistic Prostitution: the Bottom Line

This blogger knows he is about to walk through a room cluttered with cliches (ex, “Art for art’s sake,” “Business is an art,” “Selling out,” “Get ya money”), but stepping past each one, eyeing them a second, so as to reach the clear corner of the room, to breathe.   […]

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The Summer Abroad a novel

An interview: with the Lord of the Pismire, Rick

“Rick was a bro, a gentleman seen few and far between, of a caliber unknown to the race of man, the headless baton twirler in a parade called Life, a backpacker extraordinaire, a counter-demon and Lord of the Pismire. Rick Callaghan.” (The Summer Abroad, Part III, Chapter 8.)   Thus […]

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