“My Smother-in-Law,” published by Orange Coast Magazine.

As I made my move from the traditional East Coast to the bold West, and traded the patterns of my childhood for the chance to begin my own family, I learned that love is all about crossing lines.

“Westbound,” published by Fresh Ink.

Because it had rained the night before, the air was sharp and clear, and the sky was open like a blank sheet of paper. Things stood out against the colorless spring day: black telephone wires, bright green branches that were still bare, and red traffic lights. The boy felt he stuck out too, running across the empty street towards the elevated train tracks, but also that he wouldn’t be missed. When he got to the other side he paused for the rise in his chest that used to keep him from doing something wrong, that should’ve kept him from ditching. But it wouldn’t come. Ever since September, since he’d done the worst thing he could possibly do, he didn’t feel much of anything anymore.