True Florida Stories
I’m afraid of my dad’s bedroom. The bare, unlit space smells of old urine and disease, holding nothing but a bed stripped of its sheets and a streak of blood staining the wall. A weathered wheelchair sits in the bathroom; on top, a folded cotton shirt and shorts he was
Love seemed to be a facade, until I learned to embrace it. … Continue readingRewinding the tape
Tiny wet footsteps
fleeing from bathtime suds spill
giggles into the air. … Continue readingScrapbook
Angel Keihl hops back and forth, shifting her weight across a padded mat in the mixed martial arts studio where she trains. Behind gloved fists, the 35-year-old hides her face, which has taken a few beatings over the years. Her brown eyes twinkle today, but they’ve been, at times, bulbed and blue and swollen shut. … Continue readingFists of a Fighter, Heart of an Angel
When Ryan Barlow was a teenager, he would have done anything to skate.
Who cared about politeness when he was asking for a ride to the skate park? Who cared
… Continue readingThe lowbar grind