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Stuff I Wrote
Flash Fiction & Short Stories

Port Kittanning

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Tales of an Uncanny City

New!

This was his country, these mountains, these winding rivers, these long valleys and white farms.

In Port Kittanning there lived a very old woman named Pearl.

Meander was already tired of this conversation. “Is there any way I can get you to go away?” he asked.

Elijana gave up for the moment. All right then. She was going to have a picnic with a talking bear.

If anyone would accept a motherless girl and her oversized dog, it would be the Fair Folk.

Otherworlds

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Faeries, Foxes & Faraway Lands

Cold Hard Type

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Typewritten stories anthologized by

                 Loose Dog Press 

Two days ago Kieran disappeared.

When she saw the typewriter, she knew there had been a mistake.

He woke, and when he woke, as always, he woke hungry.

The devil drained his glass and licked his lips. “That was delicious,” he said.

Lesser Gods

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From the gods who sit in grandeur, grace comes somehow violent.

—Aeschylus

...run, she said to herself, go...

The tree was old, but not as old as the soldier lying at its roots.

Your Uncle Martin and I were twins.

Afternoon. Deep afternoon. Long afternoon. Too deep. Too long.

Then he saw it. The Deer. The Deer Man. The ungodly Deer Thing standing beside an old oak tree. 

It was her fourteenth birthday and she was pretty sure she was going to have a baby.

* Trigger Warning: violence, child abuse

Read for Free

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ADMIT ONE

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Today Desiree and I came to Willows Whiten.

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