It’s all wrong. Jeremy balls his hand into a fist but doesn’t dare raise it. Mikey stomps away from Mom, hugging an armload of Richard Scarry’s Busytown books. “I wanna KEEP them!” Stomps are building up in Jeremy too, but he grits his teeth instead. Mom’s right....
Letters from a Cactus concerning Life, Love, and the object of speculation, Girl. Dear Desk, Today was big. I figured out the purpose of life. SUNGLASSES. I should explain. Now, you’re probably wondering how I’m writing this… I have no answer. I am merely a...
The House went on about the day’s upgrades while the man took his shower. He couldn’t imagine why this upgrade was any different from all the others and mostly ignored the lecture. By the time he climbed out of the shower, the House had finished its explanation, and...
She paused, suspended in the depths of the sea. The clear water swirled around and faded into a light then dark blue that churned into the impending darkness below and beyond. There was nothingness around her, and nothingness below her, and even still nothingness...
I have never stood so still in my life. A handmaiden kneels at my feet, tugging the hem of my wedding gown straight. Another jabs an iron pin into my hair, capturing it in braided coils on my head. I stand with my hands clamped, but they still tremble. My mother...
August 8, 1850 “Can you get Cecelia? Or Kate?” My younger brother’s voice wobbled through the damp darkness. I sat up, facing the sick bay on the other side of the hold where two lanterns cast wavering flickers of light across the floor. “They’re taking care of Papa,”...
The bright meadow and green pasture vanished, replaced by a repulsive, violet-tinged darkness. Dry, lifeless grass crunched beneath my feet. Its color a sickly looking brown, shrouded in the same dark mauve as the rest of the landscape. Trees—or what used to be trees, lay scattered around this dark wasteland, bare and bleak.
Cathy left her office on the fifth floor of the Holloway Plaza building and pushed the down button on the elevator. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the metal doors to open. Stepping inside, she pushed the button for floor three, where...
Moss cushioned Caligo’s cheek, enveloped his arms, caressed his body and feet. Green, the moss was, and feather-soft, a more heavenly bed than any human hands could make. Deep, sweet smelling. Blood. The moss wanted blood. He would die here. Happier circumstances...
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