After the funeral, everyone left in pairs or groups, shoes crunching over the gravel drive, voices low and careful, as if they were afraid of waking something. I stood on the porch and watched them go, accepting hugs I didn’t… Continue Reading
A cool wind ripped at Tristan’s clothes. Waves crashed on the cliff below barely drowning out the beating of his heart. The abandoned house loomed high above, back lit by the stormy sky. Its mansard roof formed a brow over… Continue Reading
Jenny had swallowed time and space. A lot of it. And now she was feeling…what? Bloated? Yes. Reflux? Maybe. Heartburn? Definitely. “Have some time. Have some space.” Mark, her boss, had instructed on that initial dreadful day—without her husband, with… Continue Reading
At ten in the morning, the day was gathering steam, the sun blazing with indifference, exposing wounds with its heat. The whisper of a salty breeze fluttered across the dark pavement and tickled our cheeks, meager relief as we marched… Continue Reading
Andromache thought that when they burned Hector upon his pyre, they should just burn the rest of Troy with him. It was to happen soon anyway, without him to guard their gates, and she had told him as much, the… Continue Reading
“I don’t understand poetry,” Sam told Leonard, his best friend since elementary school. “Yeah. Who does?” Leonard replied, chuckling. The two of them were sitting in lawn chairs in Sam’s back yard, watching the barbeque fire get hot enough for… Continue Reading
Purple sugar dribbles down my finger. I suck it off before a drop can hit the ants on the pavement. It’s a hot day, but I don’t know, maybe you would have called it warm. Even when I was sweating,… Continue Reading
Having been a server at Izzy’s Diner for nearly twenty years, Betty thought she had seen it all: from baby showers to drunken brawls in the parking lot. But most of her work days were the same. The smell of… Continue Reading
At seven that morning, as she did every morning before work, Alma Day lit a candle for her husband and set it on the small altar she had made for him in her grief support group. Then she walked to… Continue Reading
“I can do a cartwheel, want to see?” The little girl turned hand over feet across the playground. She cartwheeled three times and landed on her knees, smiling over her shoulder. I wondered who this little girl was and why… Continue Reading