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Chapter 4 from a really old unfinished novel: Imago, a Fictitious Memoir
No one needed or really wanted to ask about the classroom gore of the morning, letting go and moving on were what teachers had been trained to do. Read more
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Black Ties
You have to stay here. We can’t let you leave the bar, you might tell someone of our predicament. Read more
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Sister Karma
God, if you say one more weird thing about something, I’m gonna “thoat punch” you. Read more
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Novel Time
Writing a novel is the culmination of what I’ve been preaching most of my whole life. Read more
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Picturetrove
Suzanne giggled and stomped her feet at the secret she held, the power. Read more
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La Bouquet
It looked like somebody made wedding bouquets and needed my blue and white bloomers.
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The Fatigue
Doesn’t my interpretation of the painting count? Isn’t it supposed to be a hanging Rorshact test?
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Still the Same
I ran away from home a couple of times. Once after college I went to Texas for no good reason. The last time with a man to England, half an hour from Stonehenge. We had to get married. I was pregnant. I won’t do that again. I came back. I am the same person I…
Devonne Brown 