Hide and Seek

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… ten!

“Ready or not, here I come!”

Hide and Seek has always been my favorite game. I love playing it with my mommy, sometimes she seeks, but it’s best when she hides. She sometimes hides in the most fun areas, like under the kitchen sink or behind the couch. When I’d jump out and shout ‘I found you!’ she’d laugh and gather me into her arms, blowing raspberries onto my tummy and making me laugh so much I couldn’t breathe.

Lately though, it’s been getting hard to find her.

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A great one night stand leaves two things for me: great memories and no strings attached. Bonus points is if there’s no evidence left behind. But sometimes one cannot get lucky enough for that bonus.

“Oooooh, someone got a little action this weekend,” Aisha teased as she slid over to my cubicle on her chair, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

I laughed sheepishly and rubbed my neck, where the still prominently red hickey stood out from my skin, like a proud signal of ‘I got laid’. “Yeah. He got a lil mouthy,” I said.

Continue reading Hickey


Day One

Gotta do this for two weeks right? Let’s get this show on the road.

(I better edit this before I turn it in.)

I’m naming my ‘baby’ Tabitha. She’s two ounces in weight. I might be crocheting her a hat. Her shell is a pale white, and I hope I can raise her well enough so she grows up well-adjusted and with a solid start in life… or at least well enough so I get an A on this project.

She’s sleeping beside me, close to the lamp but like not RIGHT beneath it, I’m making sure she won’t be too warm. Her matchbox bed’s super cute too, I doodled little pink flowers on it with my highlighter. It might just be a fucking egg but I gotta take care of it, right?

Continue reading Hatchling


I’m not going to pull your chain around and try to pretty up my day job- I harvest organs.

Yup. You heard me right the first time. I find people, relieve them of that kidney or maybe a lung, and I sell it for thousands and thousands of dollars. You’d be surprised how lucrative this business is. I’ve already paid off my daughter’s college and she’s only three. Anywhere she wants to go, she’s going to get. I’m just that good of a mother.

Of course my husband doesn’t know. He thinks I’m a doctor, and if we’re technically honest, I am. It’s why I’m so good at what I do. It’s how I can access medical records to find the perfect donors. You can’t have bad product after all. My customers get what they paid for.

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A mouthful of a name for the compulsion to pull out your own hair. All hair, the hair on your head, arms, your eyelashes, eyebrows. Lots of people have it, it’s usually paired with anxiety and other lovely issues.  

Mine got worse when I felt anxious, my fingers would just curl up in my hair and I’d pluck a strand out. Then another one. And another one. During high school I’d beg the principal to allow me to wear a hat to school so no one could see the bald patches but he told me ‘Just stop pulling out your hair.’

Needless to say, I got picked on. A lot.

I suppose it was a learned habit though.

My mother pulled out her hair too.

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Hades and Persephone

“I’ve been in love with you the first time I’ve saw you.”

My voice cracked, I was never good at this kind of thing. I sat across from Candice and clutched her hands. Her perfect, smooth hands that still smelled of her favorite vanilla lotion. Her nails were angel white and perfectly curved, fingers interlaced and perfectly still…

Thanks to the silk rope tying together her wrists.

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The Guardians

There was a time before we lived in Graylake, I think. Before we lived in our little house on the end of Marble Boulevard. But that was so long ago all memories I have are pale and almost gone.

My life becomes clear the moment we pulled up to our brand new house and seeing a distorted stone monster perched on the top of the roof.

I screamed and clung to my mother’s leg, pointing at the monster and asking mom what it was. My mom patted my shoulder and told me it was just a statue, that it wasn’t going to hurt me and that everything was okay. She pointed down the street and showed me that there was a statue at every house. Some were crouched on the lawn, others hanging off the gutter, some were big, some were small.

Each one was as hideous as the last.

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Guardian Angel

I was nine years old when this all happened, so forgive me if the details are a lil unclear. I bet if you’re also twenty five you got crappy memories of when you were nine, unless something important happened. Two important things happened when I was in fourth grade.

First thing, just before Thanksgiving my parents announced they were getting divorced. Now that I look back, it was for the best. Dad was a bit of a sleaze and had multiples affairs while Mom was an addicted spender. It wasn’t a pretty thing leading up to the divorce and the events afterwards were even worse. No wonder that year I chose to spend Christmas with my friend Erica.

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The Grunp

The Grunp was just something my cousins and I made up while at our grandparent’s place. We went up almost every summer for a week or two at a time when we were old enough, and I think we first started telling Grunp stories when I was nine.

The Grunp’s appearance and personality would evolve and change as we got older. The first time we told stories about the Grunp, he was a naked man with one giant eye in the middle of his head. The next year, he was covered in thick, white fur, with empty holes for eyes who walked on all fours and chewed on bones. 

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Did you know that one in five pregnancies end in miscarriage?

Some women are lucky. When they conceive, their child is born safe and sound. They grow up healthy and happy, they become doctors, lawyers, maybe even the president some day. Some women are not nearly as lucky, they lose a child the first or possibly even the second time, but then they have their lucky day and they’re blessed with an addition to their family.

I’m neither of these women.

Continue reading Growth