Smokey Mountain Breakdown

Woke up this morning to stark white snow coating tiny green leaves. House wrens puffed up in outrage on the porch, ruffled featherage. It started to snow yesterday while it was still warm. I had gone out to check the mail and caught a few chunks on my shirtfront. The problem with being bosomy is that everything lands on your shirtfront. It's like you carry around your own crumb receiver. And if you are in the slightest bit messy (and like most creative types, I take messy very seriously, indeed), then there isn't enough coinage in the world to cover your drycleaning. So I wear lots of black, washable garments. But this was just snow, so no harm, no foul. Luckily, it wasn't precipitating gravy.

It's still snowing.

I have two stories out in the current issue of The Birmingham Arts Journal. It's always very gratifying for me when a Southern publication accepts my work. It is my thang, after all. The two stories are: "A Pretty Little House" and "The Best Edible Wax Horse Teeth Ever."

"A Pretty Little House" is an all dialogue, experimental piece that takes place in a laundromat.

"The Best Edible Wax Horse Teeth Ever" is a period piece set in the late 1960's in Bluffton, S.C. Most people will recognize The Mercantile.

You can download a full copy of The Birmingham Arts Journal in .pdf HERE. Or, even better--get a subscription!