Chunk published at Anti-Heroin Chic

   “On a long-running group chat with my three best friends, I send the obituary of the guy that sexually assaulted one of us over twenty years ago…”

Thank you to Anti-Heroin Chic for finding a home for my latest essay, Chunk.

Pulled from a real group chat, I explore the dynamic between life-long friends, our relationship with trauma, and the ways in which women talk about difficult, horrifying things in private spaces.

Trigger Warnings: this essay discusses sexual assault, childhood sexual abuse, and suicide. Please read with care.

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Hay Fields – Second Place Win at Atticus Review

I’m excited to say that my CNF Flash Hay Fields was awarded second place at the Atticus Review 2020 Flash CNF Contest.

Congratulations to the first place winner Rachel Sudbeck for her essay “The Walls Here” and Charity Gingerich for winning third place!

I’ve read Rachel’s CNF and it is gorgeous. Do yourself a favor and click the link above! I’m looking forward to reading Charity’s when it is published! Thanks to the judge and a special shout out to CNF editor Chauna Craig for being delightful to work with.


Men Stop Me Running | Catapult



Men Stop Me Running published at Catapult

| 29 |

Men yell at me from car windows. My stride is slow and steady. I’m training for the American Tobacco Trail Half Marathon, my first real race. Before now, I’ve never attempted anything over 5k.

“Hey!” a man yells and it sounds like he’s falling off a cliff. The car drives away and he’s still yelling the tail end of the word until the sound floats away to nothing and he is gone.

A mile later, a beige-gold Chrysler Town & Country swerves around me and a man yells, “I will fuck you!” The back window of his van is black with little white stick-family stickers: Smiling Mommy, Smiling Daddy, Baby Girl, Soccer-playing-Son, Silly Dog with floppy ears.

I watch the van drive away, cautious. Can you Stow-and-Go an adult human woman? I guess I’m just being paranoid.

He hasn’t really threatened me, has he? But, it wasn’t a compliment, either. Men do not yell at women from moving cars because we are desirable.

I keep running, imagining Smiling Daddy falling off the side of the cliff. His stick family stands at the top, dumbfounded. As he falls, he screams, “I will fuck you!” until his dying breath stretches out to nothing and he is gone.