Selected Short Fiction:
“A Girl Like Elsie”
I tell Mama I waitress in the Village so she don’t have to cut me out of her heart. But when I come home with bruises on my wrists and she’s rocking in her chair by the window in that quiet rhythm, I want to say to her, Mama, the john wrench my arms down to the floor and slap me upside the head while he’s getting his money’s worth tonight.
“An Out-of-Town Businessman”
Item, the first: a recent newspaper clipping, rapidly becoming well-worn.
An out-of-town businessman has disappeared from a New York hotel.
“The Shape of a Prayer”
She comes out of the bedroom with her eyes glazed so thick with sleep you know she cannot recognize you. She holds the wall like an ivy creeper. She is low to the ground.