Literature
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“I cut green apples into fourths and then eighths. I slice them into smaller and smaller pieces, the flesh slippery in my fingers. I arrange them in a careful line on the plate, counting as I go—one through twenty-four. So far, twenty-four is the smallest I’ve been able to get them without slicing my finger.…
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“Holly lays in bed, one leg bent over the edge, the other bare foot resting on the cool creased pillow. Pink toes. Avon Pink Minx. She idles the morning away, watching cartoons and smoking cigarette after cigarette. Charlie would not approve but Charlie is not here. Holly throws an arm behind her head and stares…
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My short story Burn Baby, Burn – published in Issue 74 of Crack The Spine – has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize! I am a very happy writer today! For a full list of CTS nominees, see http://www.crackthespine.com/2013/11/pushcart-prize-nominees.html In addition, my sweet little Burn Baby will be published in the upcoming Fall 2013 Crack The…
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I have a new flash fiction piece being published next week at Bop Dead City! In addition, my story has been selected as the Fiction Winner in their Summer Themed Contest !! My story is called Her Feminine Circumstance. Bop Dead City is an amazing independent quarterly literary journal available in print (only) for $3. Please…
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We sit on the patio, the table drenched in white linen. I press the pads of my fingers into the cushion of my chair and I sit up straight. The furniture is wicker, but not old creaky wicker like at my Grandmother’s house, broken and bleached gray in the sun. This is new, all natural…
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I have a new story published at Black Heart Magazine. Please check it out! http://blackheartmagazine.com/2013/05/13/the-easier-thing-by-brianne-m-kohl/ If you like it, please let me know by leaving comments. If you read it and hated it, thanks for reading it.
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All the kids in the neighborhood would come together, in silence and black clothes, just as dusk was settling in. Together, they’d cry out, “One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock…” A child, the first unlucky ghost, would run and hide. “Four o’clock, five o’clock, six o’clock…” The bravest boy would begin to inch away from…
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Several years ago, a college buddy, Tim Bugansky, invited me to submit some poetry for a contest he was running that featured North East Ohio writers. I laughed. A lot. (I am many things, a poet is not one of them. Although, every time I get drunk, I change my mind.) Then I submitted three…
Brianne M. Kohl 