All I could find were your teeth, those pearly bits of bone embedded in your perfect pink gums. They were still your baby teeth, because you weren't growing. It was because you were raised by bees, that you had to stay small. Hello, I said to the back of your throat. Where are the bees?

-From God and the Bees, Fractured West Issue 3

Short Fiction Publications:

And Saints and Windmills, Metazen

Descent, Emprise Review

God and the Bees, Fractured West: Issue 3

I Will Be Humming In An Alley. The Sky Will Look Like An Old Sock, Staccato Fiction

Pianos Falling Like Angels, Glossolalia