Nonfiction

It’s an old garden story; it started with the fall. I was making my way across some stones that my husband had set, into a section of my garden that was obscured by weeds—big, shoulder-high ones, upstart saplings, overeager goldenrod, a mass of sprawlers and climbers like wild grape vine and poison ivy. I was…

The last prison the feds sent me to had been built on the side of a bluff in the middle of the desert. An island in a sea that had dried up around 252 million years ago. Originally, it was an Air Force outpost during the Cold War. However, during my time, it held felons…

The nurse tells me I have ten minutes to eat the radioactive eggs. “You can eat the toast, too, but that’s optional.” Then in thirty minutes, they will take the first scan. She leaves me alone with my paper cup of eggs and a plastic spoon. “Put some salt on them,” my great-grandmother Minerva says….

The youngest, my only sister, quaked in the bunk bed overhead the night the eldest brother left for college. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “The family is breaking up,” she sobbed. A murmuration of starlings floods the sky one late November sunset. Twisting in dark, iridescent waves in midair, hundreds of thousands of birds move in…

I threw myself into the ocean once, off a spit of land on the coast of Maine where the rocks stand up into a low outcropping, and the steady hands of the tide pull the sea away from the shore, out into the bay. As it recedes, the water surges past the shoulders of the…