Las mariposas "My neighbors don't like birds," my host mother said, tearing up another piece of bread and throwing it onto the patio. "But I do, so I feed them and blame it on the man next door." She smiled as she tossed more bread crumbs onto the porch. A tiny gray bird swooped down and... Continue Reading →


My flash fiction piece, "Voltage," is live in the 11th issue of Cleaver Magazine and can be viewed/read/printed/burned HERE, along with many other wonderful works of fiction and poetry that are also worth reading. This was the last assignment for my fiction class last spring taught by the illustrious David Samuel Levinson, a man I admire... Continue Reading →

No Pasa Nada

"No pasa nada." I hear this a lot in Spain. Translated in the most literal, anal-retentive way, it means "Nothing doesn't happen." But because Spanish is a wonderful language where double-negatives frolic freely without canceling each other out, a better translation would be "Nothing happens." But just as "What's up?" does not actually mean "What... Continue Reading →

A Spanish Breakfast

Victoria, my Spanish host mother, pushed a stool up to the kitchen counter for me. She’d laid out a box of what looked like Spanish-knockoff chocolate Rice Krispies, rectangular semi-sweet biscuits with “TOSTADOS” printed on the front, a bag of pre-toasted mini slices of bread, raspberry jam, a box of orange juice, a plastic-wrapped pair... Continue Reading →

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