'Grey flecks whir about us, the air conditioner vents pumping hot air and remnants of ash, as we drive to IGA, oddly as usual—for milk, for bread. My pearl-lidded sister, serious, looks at my bath-freshened baby in the rearview mirror like she, too, is now nothing but news.'

Read 'Aftermath' over at Lip Magazine. It received 3rd place in the 2017 Rachel Funari Prize for Fiction x