Last night I spoonfed a dying man oatmeal. I sponge bathed him even though he was already clean.
Flash fiction published
Microfiction piece published @
A Cornered Gurl
& callused hands
“The miracle wasn’t that the statues were crying;
It was in the amount of people who undoubtedly
believed that they were witnessing one.”
are thrown about
like the farewell rice.