Clinging to New Need
Still half watching the game that would decide the fate of his fifty bucks, Brad answered his cell, “Hello, this is...” A breathy voice cut him off, “I need…
The Ojibwe
Vomit spread out from the kneeling form of Noah like a surrealist painting. The fire had gone to embers, and the wind was cold in his sweat soaked hair and…
My Inner Indian
Before there was such a thing as political correctness, there was YMCA summer camp. Once a year, between the ending and beginning of school, I and 100 of my…
Shawnee Ritual 2
“I’m not afraid to die. My only wish now is to rescue Mishawaka, your daughter. I’ll sing my own death song with gladness in my heart and travel with the great…
A Dash of This...
Her fingers were bony and thin, stained a permanent yellow gold from digging the tips in the turmeric paste. Her hair smelled of mint and cinnamon from the…