Knives Out
This is part of a dark little series called Fucked Up Ways to Die. Nick heaved a huge sigh of relief as he pressed the “leave meeting” button on his work zoom call.… Continue reading
Hangwoman
This is part of a dark little series called Fucked Up Ways to Die. She stood under an awning in front of the cute little wine bar in a tiny, dirty alley to… Continue reading
What a Gem
I told this story in front of a live audience at The Moth. The theme was “schooled,” and oh, the lessons I learned. A lot of people learn about diamonds when they get… Continue reading
To Kill an Ego
This was my first live storytelling experience at The Moth. The theme was divorce. Hilarity, insecurity, and awkwardness ensue. When I was a little girl growing up in Kentucky, I always imagined that… Continue reading
Nailed It
I wrote and prepped this story for a live performance at The Moth in San Francisco. The theme was creepy. Well done, Mom. I think it’s fair to say that most people don’t… Continue reading
“I have les iPhones!”
You know what smart people do when they move to a foreign country? They plan on getting a bank account and a phone in their new country. You know what I did when… Continue reading
Omnipotence Has Its Privileges
He couldn’t take it. He wanted to gouge his eye out. He needed to. He imagined wedging the splintery end of the Starbucks wooden stir stick right underneath his eyeball and jiggling it until it… Continue reading
The Plant Flowers on Dead Relatives’ Graves Tour, 2020
Back in January, I planned all my trips for the year – some great ones that I was really looking forward to, but none more important than the one I began calling the… Continue reading
Everyday Granite
Walmart: kind of an asshole. Apologies in advance if you’re a fan, because you may never shop there again after you read this. At least I hope you won’t. ******* It’s the day… Continue reading
The Best Gift You’ll Ever Give: A New Memory
{About a 2-minute read} I walked through her house and grabbed everything I could fit in my arms. They were just things. Glasses. Scarves. Coffee cups. Pens. But they were her things. The… Continue reading