Stories (7)
Filter by community
Split Lip
At the hospital, the nurses have got those looks on their faces where you can just forget about patient confidentiality. Behind those raised eyebrows, behind the crinkled-up foreheads, already they’re cooking up the nicknames–what they’re gonna call you after you shed that paper gown and slide your legs back into those pants.
By Maegan Heil18 days ago in Fiction
The (Corn)Dog Days of Summer
Before I had boobs, and I guess even after I had boobs—at least up until the time in which my boobs and I were made to get a real job (and by real, I mean any job which did not include a nifty little business card with my name printed on the front, and below it, in a slightly smaller font, "Best-selling Author" [which in my case means all of them, haha!])—how my brain mathed out summer was:
By Maegan Heil4 years ago in Humans
Tallie's Mark
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There were once scuffed-up Tonka trucks and one-legged G.I. Joes bungee-corded to the beds, their arms bent around beer bottles and packs of Marlboro Lights as plastic wheels skid-scuttled to the bottom of the hill. There, where the tree had fallen but not yet rotted, where next to it, the grass did not grow, Tallie carved their initials.
By Maegan Heil4 years ago in Fiction
The Fear of Drowning
It was the summer of 1998 when freedom really started shouting my name. I was fifteen years old and landlocked. My circumstance that particular year was not any different from the years before—I was and always had been a country kid; stranded on a bumpy lane with no access to social life. But that summer, my skin itched to escape. Freshman year was done and over with, and I was restless. But the road to independence still seemed like light-years away.
By Maegan Heil5 years ago in Confessions
Some people are dog people
Before we had the home we do now, Sean and I lived out of a camper. At the time, it made sense—we were traveling cross country for work and didn’t have money to rent a place we weren’t going to use. One July, we were parked at my grandparents’, next to Great Uncle Herman, who was visiting from Vegas and also staying in a camper. Sean and I had gone down the road to watch the Baroda fireworks when I felt my phone vibrate. It was Uncle Herman. He’d seen our cat roaming in the yard, but not to worry, he’d put her back inside for us.
By Maegan Heil5 years ago in Petlife
