This Solitary Life

Mar 27th, 2018 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in Red Savina Review, Fiction 6.1, Spring 2018 (Excerpt:) My Uncle Saul used to predict disasters, like some sixth sense. On my eighth birthday, he mentioned a feeling deep from his gut, days before a tornado had even touched down in the Great Plains, even ahead of the usual signs of the air getting suspiciously stagnant or the cows heading east. It was a few years…

Tell Me You Love Me

Sep 4th, 2017 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in Adelaide Literary Magazine, Year III, No. 9, Vol. 1, September 2017 (Excerpt:) In the next room, my mother is dying. Lights out, dark as night though it’s the middle of the day. The heavy, velvet curtains are pulled tight with tape and wooden clothespins, so they keep the blue skies, blue birds, and the rest of the moving, breathing world out of sight. It’s…

Some Other Place

Mar 14th, 2017 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in The Summerset Review, Spring 2017 (Excerpt:) There’s more than one of everything arranged on the table before her. In a perfect circle there are six sets of French glass goblets with special twisted stems, white napkin swans on gold-rimmed plates, matching coffee cups in saucers, and more silverware than she knows what to do with. Dylan picks the smallest of the four silver spoons for…

Things We Should’ve Said

Mar 1st, 2017 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in The East Bay Review, Issue 10, Spring 2017 “Things We Should’ve Said” earned Honorable Mention in the Fall 2016 Very Short Fiction Contest, by Glimmer Train (Excerpt:) It’s October, but I have no idea what day it is. I am still a ghost of myself. The sky is hopelessly black, with only a couple dim streetlights to shine the stairway up the hill to Lo…

The Fires on Water Street

Dec 11th, 2016 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in Fredericksburg Literary & Art Review, Vol. 4, Issue 2, Fall 2016 Cover Art by Bill Harris, Rearview Mirror (Excerpt:) It’s 110 degrees and the air is weighed down by a blanket of humidity, when it’s just barely June, meaning this day could never lead anywhere good. The uneven dirt road goes on forever, a washed-out brown line looping in and through itself. I keep…

Three Hundred Miles

Oct 24th, 2016 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in Stirring: A Literary Collection,  Vol. 18, Edition 11, Nov 2016 Anniversary Issue: Photo by Manit Chaotragoongit (Excerpt:) In a brief flicker of a moment, Caroline locks eyes with her husband from the far side of the ballroom, across a sea of glittery gold and crimson. The exhaustion and pain is written on his forehead and brow, prematurely hardened as though the past five years…

Cake

Aug 2nd, 2016 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in Cutthroat, a Journal of the Arts (Excerpt:) I am the worst kind of lonely at night. My boyfriend Derek is sound asleep to my right, and I know I should let everything go and allow myself to fall into his arms. He’s already made a permanent body impression in my mattress; the smell of his shampoo can’t be washed out of my sheets….

Remembering Charlie

Jul 31st, 2016 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in The Griffin Literary Journal (Excerpt:) It’s only on very rare days that she remembers my face. “Charlotte,” my mother calls out to me as soon as I walk in her bedroom. And then it hits me like a car crash, because she knows me, for the first time in years. I give in. My knees go weak, and I grab the counter as I’m falling. “Mom!”…

The Life She Left Behind

Mar 21st, 2016 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in The Helix Magazine, Fall 2015 (Excerpt:) I stand at our favorite spot under the dogwood tree. There are day-old cigarette nubs piled underneath, but none of them are hers. I keep walking around to the edge of the cliff, searching for signs that Marie was here, but there’s not a single trace of her. For as long as I can remember, the sky has…

Liars and Cheaters

Jan 29th, 2016 Short Stories awalls 1 min read

Published in Halfway Down the Stairs (Excerpt:) Out of the second floor window, Alex climbs barefoot down the drainpipe in a dark alleyway with the ends of her black dress flapping upward from the wind, revealing her soft bare skin underneath. She’s a beautiful and fragile creature, her feet delicately wrapped on both sides of the pipe as she steps, one foot at a time, down…