E.R.M.
Adult Short Story

The Serenity Healing Center occupies a converted bungalow on the northeast side of Atlanta. In what used to be a family’s living room, I sit Indian style on the edge of a large square pillow. The brightness of an early fall day still warms the room, and eight other people join me in a wide circle. We’ve fought Atlanta’s afternoon rush hour traffic to get here in time for the first session of Emotion Release Meditation or what our teacher calls ERM. [CLICK HERE for more]

I Wish
Narrated and Animated Children's Story

The Girl Who Liked To Be Liked
Narrated Children's Story

Call Me When You're Leaving the House
Adult Short Story

The Islamorada sun still up, high and strong warmed the breeze rustling the coconut palms along the dock. Rick had just gotten paid out by a couple of anglers from South Carolina for a half day trip on the Slow Hand, and counting his money, he hummed to a flamenco version of “Lyin’ Eyes” floating in the air. It had been a good day, but he was still short a few hundred. Plotting where the remainder might come, he paused when three young Cuban girls walked by. Their bright bikinis contrasted against their brown skin and their but cheeks jiggled as they walked. “Yo tengo hambre. Quieren algo?” the shortest one said to her two friends as they headed in the direction of the dockside bar. Rick stuffed the money into the pocket of his faded red AFTCOs, pulled a damp button-down shirt out from behind a bait bucket, and pushed his old guns through the sleeves. With the furling shirt unbuttoned, revealing his thick but tanned beer gut, he followed the girls, and he tipped his Marlins cap at Jimmy, the old conch playing guitar on the nearby floating stage. [CLICK HERE for more]

That's Funny, I don't care who y'are
Adult Short Story

Terry Stillman shifted his sitting position. He and Kevin were up in the executive boardroom of American Water Distributors, sixteen floors above Olympic Boulevard in East LA and halfway through a two-hour pitch on a new line of flavored water out of Argentina. If AWD agreed to distribute the Argentine company’s Essence Water, Terry and the kid could draw enough to make fourth quarter their biggest yet. And then Terry could finally hire a West Coast sales rep and slow down a bit. He shifted again. If it didn’t go through they were pretty much fucked without enough cash flow to get their product out for the holidays, and it wasn’t looking good. The one guy who mattered, the VP of sales, a big guy named Mike Stallings, wasn’t in the room. [CLICK HERE for more]

Ceremony
Adult Short Story

The problem with holding a ceremony was that Melanie didn’t think of herself as a religious person. She and Joel didn’t go to church. They didn’t even have a traditional wedding, just a ride up in his beat up Corolla to one of the twenty-four hour chapels in Gatlinburg after college. The closest she got to praying were the savasanas at the end of yoga classes. But after nine unsuccessful years Melanie had finally decided to stop trying. She didn’t tell anybody, and since she had the run of the house this weekend she figured she’d be ceremonious about it. That’s what her latest book suggested anyway. When the time for change presents itself, face fear with celebration. She wasn’t going to do anything extravagant like buy five-hundred-dollar shoes or spend the next forty-eight hours nude. Digging up the dry and jagged cold hardy palmetto palm she planted last summer seemed right, the one Joel teased just wasn’t hardy enough for this year’s winter.[CLICK HERE for more] 

Slip
Adult Short Story

I’m standing up to my shins in dirty clothes, staring at him through the open laundry room door and wondering how anyone can be so completely selfish. He’s got his back to me, sitting at the breakfast table, wearing reindeer boxers and his last surviving fraternity shirt, which pulls a little, now, around his stomach. His calves are still muscular, though, and he’s got them crossed under his chair. One toe balances on the floor and wags his whole body as if he has to pee or something while he reads his iPhone. Our old glass and rattan table looks ridiculous in this kitchen with its mallard duck paper still clinging to the walls. I haven’t had a chance to tear it down yet and paint over it, and his presence in our new house this morning is almost as annoying to me as that. [CLICK HERE for more]

 

Side Effects
Adult Short Story

Although she kept secret how often she smoked these days, she had agreed long ago to quit completely before she got pregnant. They had each assumed that she would stay home as primary care taker of their children. But what had always seemed years off – the decision to start having children – presented itself now and sat down with them at their favorite white tablecloth steakhouse on Atlanta’s north side, imposing on her 28th birthday dinner. Overlapping loops of conversations and the tinkling of glassware provided invisible walls of privacy for his sudden and intimate proposal, to which he seemingly awaited only a single, positive response. [CLICK HERE for more]

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