Stories

Weird fiction, almost happily-every-afters, messy people, and other stories about questions that keep me up at night.

For I Have Sinned

When Jesus walked into the nuthouse, I knew things were going to get interesting. Our savior wore a gray t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of orange, converse sneakers. An angry red sore oozed over his fat, brown lips, and he had the tell-tale bruising of a black eye almost healed.

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I Do

Isabella was a single white rose in the midst of half a dozen red ones. Held together by pin and lace, like a delicate, porcelain doll. She might melt away should anyone happen to stain crimson wine on her ivory silhouette.

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