Kill All Taigs

If I thought I knew what it meant to be Catholic in Belfast (because I’m Irish Catholic, because I’d researched, Continue reading →

The Fiancée

“Number seven.” Irina approached the visa interview window. The consular officer looked through her papers. “Where did you meet your Continue reading →

The Women in A9

During foreplay, one of them heard the neighbors––the athletic young Russian couple perhaps?––also indulging, the bed frame crying, murmurs leaking Continue reading →

Sixteen Again

Sometimes I’m sixteen again. He’s smoking a cigarette, rolling the filter around in his teeth. The smoke escapes through the Continue reading →

Elizabethans

Grandpa says Cousin Jenny is an Elizabethan. Apparently Elizabethans are women who like other women. I ask him if Jenny Continue reading →

Sacred Father

When he made a fist, we kicked in windows and dragged infidels into the street. When he muttered, “Breathe,” we Continue reading →

Hopeless

Father says I’m foolish to spend so much time volunteering at the shelter. He probes, “What did those people ever Continue reading →

Migrations

Waitresses, cashiers, and factory jobs: Malcolm’s hard-working family history was authored by the city. His parents used determination to propel Continue reading →