Here is a selection of short fiction that I've written over the years.
Sing to me, Muse, of the anger of Daniela, and how she raged in the dark at her alarm clock, which did not sit upon the sacred throne of her nightstand but was instead held captive on the dresser all the way on the other side of the room, the first misstep in an ill-conceived plan to carpe the diem and get out of bed before the sun came up, instead of waiting until she desperately needed to pee, drink water, or both.
The most direct route between the school and her home was a weed-choked path in the field between the town and the river, but the girl didn’t know it existed so she stuck to the streets that went through the center of town, even though that meant walking past the checkpoints and crumbled facades that had long ago stopped breaking hearts and were now just the way things were.