ARTICLES BY tloliver
grass

My Piss Is

Tracy Lynne Oliver

08.28.18

“My piss is a gray squirrel named Nutmeg. It scampers wet. And I am relieved.” Short fiction by Tracy Lynne Oliver.

texture

This Weekend

Tracy Lynne Oliver

08.23.18

“The saddest thing is a dying horse. That time I hit one with my car. How I sat beside it while it died. Begging it to rise again, let me on its back, how we could just ride away and eat grass and lick salt.” Short fiction by Tracy Lynne Oliver.