Kate Ryan

She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.

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“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

I saw my old babysitter at a women’s wrestling cage match.

It was a tradition of theirs. When siblings Sue and Johnny went home to their mother’s for Christmas, they watched the 11 o’clock local news.

Like booster engines emptied of fuel, my limbs become disposable, useless tanks as the blood rushes from them.

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.