PORTFOLIO

I authored and managed the Facebook page for Lush Cosmetics City Creek while I worked there in 2012. Here are some of my favorite posts:








 




 FICTION WRITING:


Careful Walking 


Your friends live in a house filled with human corpses underneath the carpet. The corpses are covered completely by the handmade Moroccan carpet that fills the entire house. There is different carpet for each room, some patterned with pink and teal camels and others in plaids and stripes.  

Life is normal with the corpse cocoons. You catch your friends making out in the hallway with one of them by their feet. You go into the kitchen to take out a pan from the cabinet to bake cookies, it falls out and lands on one. You pick it up. On the sofa you watch a movie while holding hands with your friend under a blanket. You use one of them as a footstool.  
When you sleep over you are careful not to trip over the corpses in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. 
It’s Christmastime and Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” is playing on the record player. You all dance merrily around each corpse as you decorate the Christmas tree with gold tinsel and popcorn garland. Pieces of popcorn fall like snow from the garland and land on the corpses. You don’t pick up the pieces.  
The house smells like warm cinnamon and pine forest and the corpses are always there.


What I Think About Latte Art

Their knees touched underneath the table at the café months before their lips would ever meet. She felt his boney kneecap tap against her fleshy leg. Neither of them pulled away, with bone and skin together their chemistry turned all the plain foam in everybody’s drinks into latte art. They never had to discuss anything, they knew they were in love.  He knew in the way that she looked at him and she knew in the way that he followed her around town. 

“Why do you even try to drink cappuccinos and that pipe…what is the point of that pipe?” she asked. “You spill and make a smoky mess out of everything.”
 “I like the way I look with my pipe and I like to sit with you and admire your olive skin and freckles,” he said. 
They’d spent every minute together. They would take a blanket down to the river and she would read books to him and he would play his guitar for her. They would dance and laugh, but she wished for more. He was only bones, but they were bones she wanted to jump. She had fallen in love with a skeleton. 


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