She went into the forest to die, Mother said. Animals do that. They slink away and die in secret, to keep you from being sad. 

Her muddy pawprints are still there, on the porch steps. Her bowl is still there. Her food has gone mushy and moldy...

Burying Rosie

Up and down the aisles you roam, tall and white and male, flanked by your pack. You appear at ease and you should be, shouldn't you? Proud and large and bolstered by others, you bounce through Target, nervous energy shaken off by easy laughs. 

Parking Lot Prowl

I almost always cry on my birthday. This year was the second that passed since going no-contact with my mom. It was such a relief. No text, no call. Just peace, a long walk, a hot bath. 

Jellyfish Mug

There is a clump of something fuzzy on the bike path. Closer, I see swarms of bugs, hovering about it. It must be dead, whatever it is.

A tiny head lifts as I pass. I see it is not one but at least two baby raccoons, curled together. 

Pests

Your flippered feet kick and your gloved hands circle and you are doing this to stay still.

Your headlight illuminates the creature in front of you – an alien, yellow eyes and purplish skin and more tentacles than you can see. 

Meili K.

Selected work