Category Archive: Fiction

(We’re off on the) Road to Morocco

So, there’s this orb-y thing we got to get. It’s at this undisclosed place that’s quite far (but not that far). We were the trip, me and my buddy. He is the flourished… Continue reading

How to Write About Being Gay in the Philippines

As a full-time, minimum wage worker, I tend to snap at any writing opportunities that come my way. Especially if it’s a paying opportunity. A few days ago I chanced upon the fanpage… Continue reading

Footloose

The last ten minutes of service is always the longest. “Stop, Rev. Top,” whispered me to Allie. She bit her lower lip, but the top half of her teeth were still stretching to… Continue reading

Forty-Second Street

We parked at the corner of forty-first. I had asked him to move closer as I hated slipping through the slush that has covered the city the night before. He lowered his aviator… Continue reading

All That Jazz

There were no dustbunnies under the sofa, but she swept underneath anyway. The handle of the broom was the exact length for a woman of her height to be able to reach to… Continue reading

Housewife Fantasies

I secretly want to be a housewife. I know, I know. Feminism has given us the imperative of “Whatever a man can do, I can do better.” Women in this day and age… Continue reading

Old Time Rock and Roll

No one check’d if it was plugged. 5 minutes on stage, we looks like fools. Pietro, he was ’em sound engineer or some’in, he was chuggin’ some ol’ fashion brew bef’re curtain. Burp,… Continue reading

A Foolish Journey now available!

After months of being delayed, I am proud to announce that my first ebook, “A Foolish Journey,” is now available for free download at this site! The product of a 78-day writing challenge,… Continue reading

Cheek to 2

The problem with sequels is how to stretch one thing to dual proportions. Repetition is out of the question — but changing it loses its trajectory, loses its linear motion from A to… Continue reading

Cheek to

Shuffling papers, pencil atop my ear. Sweat-decolored shirt that reeks of countless nicotine butts dying outside. I should probably head home. Probably now. Through my periphery, him. Six years my junior. He looks like my… Continue reading