It was her birthday and Bob went all out. He spent a fortune on Evette’s dress and half a year’s salary on the dinner party. He mentioned the dress several times during the meal which embarrassed Eve to no end.… Continue Reading
Twelve days before his forty-seventh birthday, it dawned on Thomas Mearns that he’d never done anything remarkable in his entire life. Well, to alleviate his pedantry, it was twelve days, eleven hours and four minutes whilst he was sitting with… Continue Reading
Max launched himself out of bed and raced into his parents’ bedroom bellowing, “Get up, get up already, today is my birthday!” The commotion continued as Max bounced around the apartment like a jackrabbit singing, “I’m five, I’m five, I’m… Continue Reading
On the dawn of my forty-third birthday, I woke up and went to the bathroom just like any other day. Before my butt hit the seat, even before my underwear made it past my thighs, my womb fell right out… Continue Reading
He painted her a picture. He showed it to her one Tuesday, after she got off work. He had been working on it for a while and finally decided it was finished. He knew he was done with the painting,… Continue Reading
Harry sat in a semi-circle with five other kids, waiting for John Barrett to hurry up and open his birthday presents. John, who Harry only ever hung out with whenever his real friends were grounded or out of town, stood… Continue Reading
“If you could do anything in the world for your birthday — anything at all — what would you do?” My daughter, Layla, mirrors the question that I asked her last month about her birthday when I was looking for… Continue Reading
Roger would be home any second now. Eleanor made one final sweep of the house, checking that everything was perfect. Trays of finger foods arrayed on gleaming platters. Liquor and mixers lined up on the pass-through countertop. Cake four layers… Continue Reading
He always calls me on my birthday. My brother. Even though he’s been dead ten years. I wait, every year, not knowing what time of day he might call, or from what number. It’s always a different number. I imagine… Continue Reading
Dr. Alfred Dudley tapped the translator on his lapel again. “You, dreadful dirge day, tomorrow,” it said for the second time with a crackle of static. Well, he’d configured it to run an adaptive linguistics algorithm. Maybe that wasn’t even… Continue Reading