Margret sat alone at her kitchen table reading the obituaries, sipping Earl Gray from an antique bone china cup, decorated in someone else’s bespoke floral pattern of roses, violets and a ruby red stripe. She set the cup on its… Continue Reading
August 30th, 2005 It’s eerie: the stillness when I looked at everything I ever called home underwater. There was a surge of unease in the air. One that whispered, though the storm had passed, the worst had yet to come.… Continue Reading
Your medicine cabinet is spotless, curated. Candy-colored dropper vials, squat pearlescent tubs, and crystalline perfumes all lined up like a miniature, glittering skyline. You’ve turned them inward — shyly, discreetly — so I can’t read the labels. You’re daring me… Continue Reading
Emma Monroe’s phone rang. Eighty years old, a former professor of philosophy, she liked to believe she hadn’t lost any of her sharpness over time. She answered the phone before the second ring, noting that she didn’t recognize the caller… Continue Reading
Martin takes his daughter, Stella, to the clearing behind their cottage. She’s young for an eclipse viewing but he hopes she’ll at least retain a shared memory of absolute darkness in the daylight, then light again. He holds her hand… Continue Reading
The small soggy furry lump had lodged itself firmly in the crack between tiles. Shannon stood silently watching over it. She had recently been watching a lot of spaghetti westerns and had been struck with the idea of becoming a… Continue Reading
“It’s a little early, even for you.” Susan’s right. Even for me. I smile sheepishly. “It’s Friday.” I don’t tell her it’s my second. I don’t tell her why. I don’t tell her about you. “It’s always Friday with you,… Continue Reading
Bob Wanstead walked around the black engine, pausing for a moment to pat one of the big driver wheels, something he’d done before every trip since he started on the line forty-four years before. It left a film of coal… Continue Reading
Ever since I was little, I knew the crown came with sacrifice. Even so, in the spring I turned eighteen, I met a girl in our court who loved Lady Guinevere as much as I did. My sweet Primavera. Like… Continue Reading
I’m hanging with the roadies in the wings when James gets in my face. “What are you doing here? You’re on in 20 minutes,” he hisses. He must have been scared I’d skipped out or passed out. “Just catching the… Continue Reading