The boy was fourteen, so he knew what he was doing. At fourteen we are everything we will ever be which is why it’s then that the world attempts to so drastically improve us. 

The path was often muddy, you had to use roots for steps, and it led us out of the warm light that the barn breathed out.

I nodded, looked out over the city, and thought that what Jake had just said was exactly what was wrong with white people.

A few days ago, colleagues at a work function had been standing in a circle. He was pallid-work-him glass in hand, standing to one side.

I miss the parts where my siblings and I would pile into my parents’ bed on the weekend, my father still half asleep and my mother long awaken.

Mrs. Greene just shakes her head. For a moment, she seems about to speak, to demand something again—

The girl walks towards the waves by herself, still clutching the packet of biscuits, the water a little above her anklets.

Outside, noise from the street reminded Dave that life existed beyond his apartment.

I stub the butt of my cigarette out and stare blankly at the too trimmed row of bushes bordering our backyard. Michigan is chilly in October. I go inside.