-
I had a spiritual mentor once that was only a few years older than I was. He was not just a mentor, but he was a dear friend. During our time together, I grew to love him in a powerful way, a way that I couldn’t quite define. It was a holy kind of love,
-
I had a bad breakup in my early twenties, the kind that makes you reconsider everything. Shortly afterwards, I went on a trip with my family to the Great Lakes. Lake Superior is wildly beautiful in ways that words cannot capture. That trip turned into a spiritual quest for me. There, at the water’s edge,
-
I had a habit of wishing for things I couldn’t have. There was a particular guy who fell into this category. We had a very frank conversation one night after work in which he told me he couldn’t offer me anything other than his friendship. It was the right choice, for many reasons, even though
-
The sleepover is an essential part of being an kid. When I was a teenager, I spent the night with friends (either my house, or theirs) nearly every weekend. When I was a young teenager, most of my Saturday nights were spent with my best friend at her dad’s apartment. She did not have a
-
I don’t really want to admit how many times I got myself into a love triangle. I think about the reasons why often. I wanted to see the best in people, even when they couldn’t or wouldn’t give me what I needed. I believed in redemption, even when there was unwillingness to change. But of
-
This is a poem I wrote when I was 18, as part of a study on sonnets. I included this piece in my final writing portfolio as a graduating senior. The words of this piece sometimes haunt me. Half my life ago, I managed to capture an image of despair that continues to be how
-
(Find the chapters and a description of the project here.) There are several ways I could have retold this story. I could have stayed true to the original narrative, and written about two people continuing their lives after facing condemnation and shame. I could have written both Jesse and Rebecca as unapologetic and shameless. I
-
(Find previous chapters and a description of the project here.) It is Sunday. It is 9:32. She is visibly shaking from adrenaline. She tells herself not to let her lizard brain take over. She tells herself that she can survive the next hour. Brett takes her hand as she enters the church. Finn sticks close
The Quick and the Dead
Short stories. Creative experiments. Ideas that might not pan out.
The Quick and the Dead 