Behind the Waterfall There was also a fishkeeper, named Kyle. Ron was the keeper of the gargantuan reverse osmosis water filter, and what pumped fresh water through all the aquaria, and all the crazy building engineering. The man for the mammals was old Harry. He’d… Read More
Emperor “Moi” Crush reached out with his furred arm and swiftly took Mike’s rifle away as he armed himself. Charlotta got her gun. Dark legs spread, shaking, cussing at herself for not being able to decide whether to… “No me pegues, Charlotta, o pegaré a… Read More
In an orange autumn world, and overlooking a winding gray creek—silver, this morning, a sea of yellowing black walnut trees and kudzu, both invaders foaming far below, and alongside that, Charlotta looked down and breathed smile at the dizzying rush below and the incredible, orgasmic… Read More
The girl with the quiet, angry face did not, of course, call herself ‘girl with the quiet, angry face.’ She was Charlotta Phelps, but Charlotta was the kind of young woman who did realize strangers must call her ‘quiet, angry-faced girl’ and she relished having… Read More
It should have been a normal rush hour ride from Brookland Station, past Georgia Avenue, through Columbia Heights, then down through that damnable bottleneck…
