"The Year We are 23" -- Originally published in the Hayden's Ferry Review

Our refrigerator makes a lot of noise. It creaks. It cries. It moans and whines. Orange dots cover the bottom of the door and disappear near the handle. No matter where the temperature’s set, it’s too cold. The vegetables are frosty; our drinks are slushies: orange slushy, Coke slushy, milk slushy.

We are twenty-three and there are certain things we have to deal with.

We live in a duplex and our neighbors play the stereo too loud. They are army punks, meaning they were both in the army and have spiky hair and leather bands around their wrists and many tattoos. The girl has a bumper sticker that says Good girls get fat, bad girls get eaten.

{The complete text can be veiwed here...}

"Your House is a Body" -- Originally published in Barrelhouse

Hello ma'am, I'm here to see your crawl space. Nice old gal you've got, dating back to the twenties, is that right? And still up and running!

Now I recommend treating even minor creaks and cracks immediately because everything in your house is connected. The air you breathe in one room's the same air you breathe in another, so if you've got mold in your crawl space underneath your basement, you won't escape it, not even by living in the attic.

{The complete text can be viewed at Barrelhouse Online}

The first step is to lay out the course, pick the events, and choose the order. The next is to prevent Daniel from coming red-faced onto the porch halfway through the first race, crying: They’re cheating! It’s not fair!

You’re not yet sure if the second can be done.

Rummage through your drawer, full of medals from years of running, and pull out the one you’re looking for – shiny gold with a picture of a man running and a great tree in the background. It has a thick ribbon attached at the top – red, white, and blue – which you intend to drape around the neck of the neighborhood champion.

{The complete text can be viewed here...}{A map of the course can be viewed at Hobart}