The whisper of my dress stung against sunburned thighs. It serves you right. They told us the Puerto Rican sun was stronger than we were used to. Hair piled high, faces made up, sporting sundresses and suit coats, my friends and I strolled through the casino. We wove through the smokey room in twos and … Continue reading Jackpot


If midnight was the Witching Hour, then 3AM was the Hour of Self Loathing. A litany of conditioning and doubt – stupid, ugly, worthless. Coward. Flagellating myself in the darkness, the list marched circles in my head. The red glowing numbers on the alarm clock ticked forward with agonizing slowness. More time to dissect the … Continue reading 3AM