A man lives in my bedroom closet. He is tall and bearded, with a middle-age paunch. He mostly keeps to himself. Lately, however, he has been rearranging my clothes. At night I hear him rattling hangers, and in the morning… Continue Reading
November 3, 1960 Beloved Brother Alwyn, I thought you might like a photo of my new parish home at Mount St. Bernard. Leicestershire will never hold the fondness of my heart like Caldey Island. I miss the whitewashed buildings, my… Continue Reading
Anna drummed her fingers along the flour-covered counter and glanced at the old clock that hung on her wall. “Set a timer for 6:10,” she said. Timer set. How are you feeling today, Anna? “Just peachy,” she mumbled. That’s great!… Continue Reading
Every morning, I turn on my laptop and check my emails. Very few of them are personal, mostly junk mail. I don’t bother opening them… just go down the list and delete them. But today one of them caught my… Continue Reading
Face down on the street, hands locked behind my head, I lay still while Plainville’s Finest held a gun on me and Second-Best rifled through my pockets. Where had I gone wrong? My client had announced he chose me based… Continue Reading
A deep breath. “I know why you keep me around. It’s so you have someone to hate. Because if you didn’t have me, you’d start hating yourself. You already do. You loathe who you are. You’ve been so busy building… Continue Reading
I first saw it on my way to work, shivering in a corner between my building and the next. It tracked me with big brown mournful eyes as I passed. I hesitated, but there was nothing I could do and… Continue Reading
Dear Indigo, It’s Marissa Flores. I’m writing you tonight because I couldn’t sleep. A year ago, you skipped away to wherever you are now. I hope one day you’ll see this, which is why I never say goodbye. I almost… Continue Reading
I’ve had my share of peculiar teachers; Professor Gonzalez who strapped a biper to a cord and ran like crazy through the classroom to exemplify what the Doppler Effect was; Mrs. Corujo who intentionally bumped her head in the wall… Continue Reading
Of all the people on the meadow, the girl is the only one who is not taking photographs. Because photographs of a meadow are meant for people who don’t actually get to be on a meadow. In photographs, the fog… Continue Reading