2023
♢"Nerves into Circuits" - published in Heartlines Spec, November 30, 2023
Metal arms descend to press skin-soft conductor strips over my shoulders. The Neurasuit has been in warming mode for a few minutes–my overwrought senses accept the lines of heat like a gift. Despite my anxiety for the fight, my trapezius muscles relax, creaking in the silence. Released from the tension, my vertebrae settle into place with small snaps, one or two with each breath.
♢"Irontooth" - published in Twenty-Two, Twenty-Eight, January 27, 2023
By the end of summer my teeth are barely strong enough to crack a peppermint in two. My jaw strains, venomous pain shooting through my molars. My husband glances over with pity. “You need to wait,” he tells me, “It isn’t even September.”
By the end of summer my teeth are barely strong enough to crack a peppermint in two. My jaw strains, venomous pain shooting through my molars. My husband glances over with pity. “You need to wait,” he tells me, “It isn’t even September.”
2022
♢"Forbidden Soup" - published in The Fantastic Other, August 14, 2022
Don’t learn it the hard way: never hike alone when you’re going off trail. Don’t be like me and go trotting alone into the woods of Blodgett Peak Open Space, looking for the aircraft crash site without even a whistle as insurance.
♢"Under the Fig Tree" - published in Villains by Cloaked Press, June 21, 2022
Finally, with the efforts of their vast and tireless numbers, the skeletons chained down Rrendurra, the lost Great Dragon Queen of the West. She writhed her enormity against the bonds, her blue scales flashing like the ocean’s heave, desperate spurts of flame shooting from her jaws.
♢"Furling" - published in Tree & Stone, Queer as F*, June 20, 2022
"So, what should we do with the body?”
Standing over the mass we’d fished out of the pool, we shared a nervous laugh at my joke. What else to call it?
♢"Faces in the Grain" - published in Cosmic Horror Monthly, June 1, 2022
Our house has wooden ceilings, glossy boards rising to a high peak, swirling and stippled with shades from tawny gold to darkest sepia. On the first night, my husband and I laid in bed and pointed out the shapes in the knots and grain, naming them like clouds...
♢"Small Spirits and Squirrel Leather" - published in Twenty-Two Twenty-Eight, February 18, 2022
I made myself late to work crouching on the sidewalk in front of the fire station, queasily trying to discern the identity of a baffling object: a cardboard-flat, grey Rorsarch test of possibilities.
2021
♢"To Crave an Empty Chest" - published in This is Not a Horror Story by Night Terror Novels, October 30, 2021
Reprinted with alternate ending in Penumbric Speculative Fiction, December 11, 2023
Ever since I returned from the Valley of the Goddesses, you have come to me in dreams to disturb my sleep. I see you pressed against an obsidian slab--lying on it or upright, I’ll never know. Your head is thrown back, your throat exposed in a gesture of religious ecstasy.
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