This is my living journal. Updated when needed. I hope to one day look back at his project and think: I felt something. It’s not about my writing. It’s about me. Advertisements

Hongos. (Reprise)

Maria sat with her legs crossed tight enough to amputate a man’s hand if it found itself anywhere near them. She didn’t know much English, she carried all her money in cash, and she didn’t have her husband next to her. All she had was three children waiting in her suburban, pining for mushroom pizza. … More Hongos. (Reprise)

Mil Muertes

Uriel was fourteen when he started begging. At fifteen, he had gotten pretty good at it. At sixteen, people stopped giving him change. His beard was too scraggly and his teeth were too foul for his boyish charm to work anymore. Of course, it didn’t help that Janos, Mexico had been withering away over the … More Mil Muertes

El Cucuy

Santiago was seven when he first heard the name El Cucuy. It was back when his boyish wonder led him to places he shouldn’t be. He’d usually spend his time playing with his toys and cars in the living room. Santiago’s explosions rattled the glasses in the kitchen cabinets. His car engines growled and coughed … More El Cucuy

Here Lies Chao

In the years leading up to the Vietnam War, Old Man Chao moved to Connecticut to pursue the American dream. Chao found the small town of Cornwall, Connecticut and made it his new home. Cornwall had a population of 300 back then. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone was related to everyone in some way. Then Chao … More Here Lies Chao

Pizza Brigade

On March 12, 2003, Artie feared for his life with five other people in the freezer of his University’s local pizza shop. They also sold pottery. Interesting business model. Artie stopped at La Cocina for lunch on this day. He figured he’d get a small pizza. Pineapple and mushroom for toppings. Light on the cheese. … More Pizza Brigade