Category Archives: Uncategorized

October 1, 2017

“I thought I might better like the pregnancy if I announced it. I had no one to talk to other than the man and so I announced my news to the emptiness of the house: I am pregnant. My voice traveled to the far side of the house, then repeated back. A voice much like my own said: I am pregnant…”

September 30, 2017

“He looked like a corpse. I did not know how to help him and so I fed him, then dried him. I felt for a heart beat. I pressed an ear to his chest and listened to his lungs drag. A thick liquid sloshed about within his ribs. I hid away from the man, terrified by his sickness…”

Excerpt #4 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Mother Walked Into the Lake will be released December 5, 2017. Preorder now at



September 27, 2017

“I slept again and when I woke, I was halfway up the staircase. The dark was very close. I smelled it. It was like wet earth. I stepped and tripped upon my gown. I woke a third time and stood at the kitchen sink, holding my hands beneath burning water. The burns felt like nothing. Blisters formed and I peeled them open…”

September 25, 2017

“The first night, the man and I crawled into one another. I could not get away from him. I was desperate for his flesh. I wanted to slice open his back and climb into his skin like a coat…”

September 20, 2017

“The man let me out of the locked room. I was relieved but then noticed how strangely the house felt, as though it were underwater. It seemed I swam from room to room. I was disassociated from my limbs. I walked as though I really floated. I could not make sense of where my body was in relation to anything else in the house…”

Excerpt #3 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Mother Walked Into the Lake will be released December 5, 2017. Preorder now at



September 8, 2017

“The man and I walked the house for hours, until our legs cramped and our thighs went cold. We wore down the staircase and bumped against the walls. I tripped over my gown many times and when I did, the man crawled beneath and ate. This went on and on, and it seemed like a dream because it went on for so long…”

Excerpt #2 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Mother Walked Into the Lake is due out December 5, 2017. Preorder now at



Excerpt #1 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Mother Walked Into the Lake will be released December 5, 2017. Preorder now at



August 31, 2017

“I did not know how to help the man. Sickness seemed so much worse now that we were locked up within the house. Even a sneeze seemed to be a harbinger of death and the man was considerably sicker than that. He frothed in his sleep, he screamed. I poured salt over his stomach, his face…”

August 30, 2017

“Just after the dream, the man grew sick. He stumbled beside me, then lay upon the floor, his body overheated and sweating. I felt for his pulse but the thrumming was very weak. I spooned water into his mouth but the man turned his head to the side…”

August 29, 2017

“I dreamed the dead mounded outside the front door. Everything beyond the house withered. Every house, sidewalk, and street was a cemetery. The dead were flea-bitten and mangy, starved until their bones pushed out from their flesh, had crumpled stomachs that were torn down the middles by their weak crawls over stony and pitted paths…”

August 27, 2017

“The man and I closed the doors. It was better this way, for the house’s many spaces to be lessened. We did not trust that one or the other might not disappear into the darkness and be gone. Door after door was closed, with a click, a slam. I felt great relief each time a door wavered in its frame, then sealed, the dark shut up behind so that I did not have to see it again…”

August 15, 2017

“The man’s fever was gone soon enough. With its end, came the man’s terrible hunger. He and I went through the house, eating bits of flooring and wallpaper, pieces of chipped paint, hair. None of what we put in our mouths was enough…”

August 6, 2017

“It was a dark house and I did not want to go. It was too quiet, too cold. I told the man no. The house was haunted. The man pulled me and locked the door. The panic then, the blindness. I could not find my way; I clung to the man. He was not so brave…”

July 31, 2017

“In the dark, the man and I sat at the dinner table with a perfectly molded green gelatin quivering between us. The gelatin was a thing of beauty. At certain angles, I saw the man through it and he saw me. We did not cut the gelatin. We did not want to eat it. We only sat it down and pretended we were happy…”

July 29, 2017

“Someone (something) knocked upon the house. I looked from the man to the sound. The man said we must never answer knocking. Those who knocked were dead. Only the dead existed beyond the house. Only the dead could survive the constant dark. They festered and dragged that rot to our front door so that we might be tainted by a touch of their melting fingers…”

July 20, 2017

“I tried being good. I thought it obsessively while I scrubbed the windows with torn paper towels and strong-smelling cleaner. Be good, be good, be good. My fingers caught in the paper towel’s holes and squeaked the glass, smudging what I wiped. I looked from the paper towels to the smudge marks and gave up on cleaning the glass…”

July 18, 2017

“There was great desperation then, one I wanted to cut from myself with a knife. I wanted to hang from the ceiling fan, heave myself again and again against the front door, the closet doors. I wanted to cut a hole into the wall, step inside, and be gone, sealed up, swallowed. I wanted to feel everything and nothing, all at once…”

July 12, 2017

“I slept but woke in the night with a pressure bearing down upon my chest. The pressure was so much that I choked. I tried calling for the man but my voice did not rise past a whisper. Beside the man, I whispered: Help, help. He did not hear me. He snored and coughed…”

July 11, 2017

“I did not want to live. I wanted to open myself and scrape until there was nothing left beneath my skin. I wanted the bones cleaned, the wetness dried. I avoided looking into the mirrors. I did not like to see myself now. I was afraid of how hollow my eyes looked…”

July 5, 2017

“When I felt that I was beginning to slip inside my skin, to go careening down the tightness of vacant mental hallways, to stab myself in a thumping ball of gelatin within my brain, I thought of those things I knew were true: […] I was sometimes afraid of the dark, not of the dark itself but of what might have been breathing just near me, its mouth wet and black, its throat endless…”