Molly wishes her alive again and jumps as the door slides open. “Hi, there,” her mother says. “Knock next time!” Molly shouts. “You taught me that.” “Yes.” Her mother’s tone is apologetic, looking down at her bare feet. “You forgot.”… Continue Reading
I’m not sure how long Henry has been using my peppermint foot butter as a deodorant. I can’t blame him; the packaging is almost identical to his stick. I mentioned it to him and he shrugged and rubbed it under… Continue Reading
Louisa was washing her hands after spreading yards of mulch when she noticed it: the diamond in her wedding ring was gone. Why hadn’t she taken it off first, or worn gloves? The jeweler eyed the ring’s fractured prong. “Was… Continue Reading
“There’s a face in it.” “A face? I don’t see it.” She pointed at the shape on the ceiling above their bed, twisting her wrists and fingers like a belly dancer as she gestured to the parts. “See? Look. It’s… Continue Reading
Left, right, left, right… keep going, keep breathing. Her chest burned, rasping breaths tearing her parched throat. Still, she battled on. Left, right, left, right… Pumping dance music pounded her ears but she’d long since abandoned keeping time to the… Continue Reading
The phone on her nightstand rang, interrupting her morning ritual of negative self talk. She sighed at her reflection and turned on her heel, walking with exaggerated slowness. With luck, she would be too late to answer it. She wasn’t…… Continue Reading
“You…really think I’m holding… 231 gumballs?” The Jar said, her voice trembling, tears starting to stream onto her ‘GUESS HOW MANY’ sign. “No, it’s not, well, yeah, I guess I do.” “You really think I’m that… big?” I had dug… Continue Reading
It was curious, Dr Harold felt, that he should have been working on his Fibonacci paper that December. As a rule, he tried not to notice workplace festive japes. The explanation he felt most comfortable giving himself was that it… Continue Reading
My old man’s dad died just a month before I was born. I always wished I’d met him. He was, by all accounts, a real character I’d have enjoyed talking to. Ma’s dad was still with us, so to differentiate… Continue Reading
My grandmother’s hands are pale with slender fingers and arthritic joints that never stopped her from doing whatever she wanted despite some occasional pain and swelling. They looked exactly as I pictured mine would, in another fifty years or so,… Continue Reading