She was all cute and shit. I liked her. She went to the bathroom. I didn’t see her go but I heard a napkin say it was going to the bathroom and I recognized the voice as hers. Then the napkin was gone. That’s when I decided to ask her friends, “Does Chloe get to…

How did this work come about? I have an odd love for serial killers and women get enough “credit” for their serial killings. That is, most female serial killers kill babies and old people. Then, I found Martha, and sure, Martha killed babies, her own babies, but her motives were unpredictable. I’ve been trying to…

Three months after they brought Tabitha home, Martha caught Arlene burning paper in her room. She didn’t know exactly what was written on the paper, only the word “evil” survived the fire and smoke, or maybe she had written “devil” but the “d” had burned away, it didn’t matter to Martha, ultimately, which of the…

One day, Janie McDonagall, a little girl filled with cruelty and hate, cut off Martha Johnson’s hair, almost all of it with just one quick snip, publicly, in Math class, making the former little girl very popular while ensuring the latter little girl remained shamed, and decades later, Martha, still angry and seething, has forgotten…

Q. How did this story come about? “Fragments of a Pennsylvania” is the first section of part of a larger thing I’m working on, sort of a fictional romantic autobiography told through city guides. The story is an attempt to work with my own memories, combining fragments that, I hope, end up saying something about…

Abel, Pennsylvania (“Rubber City”, “Tire City”, “Hot Buttered Rubber Town”) facts: city of rubber, city of alcoholics, city of zeppelins, birthplace of the waffle cone, free clinics, and reinforced concrete. Approximately 56 nautical miles from a “Styx Monument” (origin unknown), one of three (rumored) temples of the rock band Styx and one of the seven…

Q. How did this story come about? When I was writing this piece, it was actually going to be much longer and set in Mexico, with the piano figuring prominently. I was also listening to a lot of Duran Duran—the first album and Rio. But then I was reading ex-pat blogs on Barcelona and listening…

No more cagarse en la leche, she laughed. No more shitting in the milk, no more anger, she meant. Me importar tre leches, she laughed again, her hand in the air¾I don’t mind three milks, I don’t give a shit. We drank canya outside a bar at the Placa del Sortidor. Nora sat on the…

Q. How did this story come about? A friend said to me “be prepared to lose,” not meaning to be unkind. The circumstances have nothing to do with the story; it was a sentence I had to use. Otherwise, I was probably hungry when I wrote it and I like blueberry scones. Q. Why is…

On his bad days, he warned me against having hope. He needed company in his desolation and I walked down dangerous steps to meet him. He made me scones and coffee. He watched me eat and drink and brightened when I said the scones were good. I bought the raspberries at the farmers’ market because…

Q. How did this story come about? This story started with a text message—the first line of the piece, “I’m on a filthy outdoor sofa.” The recipient said he would steal the line if I didn’t use it, and since I was trying to avoid another project anyway, I simply began there and kept going…

I’m on a filthy outdoor sofa. Tagging along with my just-divorced cousin Rod on his so-called errands was a bad idea. I should’ve stayed at the house and hulled peas, watched 60 Minutes with my uncle. For a good half hour at least, I’ve been waiting for Rod to make up to Jackie, a girl…