Camille escaped, for a time. She stepped out of the back door of her house and onto her family’s wooden porch. Oscar, her brown-and white cat, nudged past her. He pressed against her legs for a moment, looking up with her in silent expectation. She bent her legs to reach down and scratch his head. … Continue reading Camille, Pt. 1
Tag: Short Fiction
Fatigue
Karl feels heavy. He’s overweight, as he has been for years, but that’s not why he feels heavy. Every part of his body, from his fingers to the tips of his thinning hair, feels like it’s weighing him down. It’s a struggle even to lift his arm to pick up a potato chip from his … Continue reading Fatigue
Get Gone
“Tell me what to do to fix this,” he says, as though I have an answer for him. He’s trying to recover. He’s trying to backpedal and apologize. He’s trying to make amends for what he’s done, but he doesn’t know how, because he’s never really thought about what it means to be good to … Continue reading Get Gone
That’s Enough
I had a hard time, today, coming up with something coherent to write. Mondays are my hardest days of the week to write, because generally, I've taken two days off of writing at that point and it feels like all the pathways to writing have crusted over a bit in the interim. I started to … Continue reading That’s Enough
Chimes, Pt.1
People are strong. That’s something I’ve come to realize, over the years. I used to believe the opposite. I thought that, compared to the Wizard and his monsters, that we were all pathetic and worthless. Weak. I thought that we — that my people, that people in general — cowered in fear of the Wizard … Continue reading Chimes, Pt.1
More Wine
Rebecca takes a sip from her wine glass. It’s just palatable enough to swallow, which is fine, because the entire bottle cost her less than two dollars. She isn’t the type to care about whether the wine is actually good or not. She just drinks it for the alcohol. She swirls the rest of the … Continue reading More Wine
Not Gone Yet
A tear runs down my nose and falls from the tip before I can reach up to wipe it away. I blink, looking upward in hopes that it will forestall more tears. The first drops right into the mixture I’m stirring on my stove. No matter. Such a small amount of salt and water shouldn’t … Continue reading Not Gone Yet
The Park at Night
“Dad!” I call. “Come one! You have to see this.” I found something really cool in the park. Dad is mad, one, that I’m up so late at night, and two, that I woke him up at a time when both of us should be sleeping. I don’t care. This is totally worth it. … Continue reading The Park at Night
This Meal Matters
This meal matters. To an outside observer, with no knowledge of Justin’s life, perhaps it would seem insignificant. Perhaps a more experienced chef would laugh at him, for he is following, to the letter, a recipe he has called up on his phone, though the meal is simple: chicken, with sides of steamed broccoli and … Continue reading This Meal Matters
Ink: Epilogue
He loves her. He has to: she holds his heart in her hands. What can he do but love a woman who cups his still-beating heart so gratefully, so lovingly? He can see that she cares for it. He can feel that she does. She has stopped crying, leaving only the stains of her tears … Continue reading Ink: Epilogue
Daydreams 