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It’s OK

It’s OK

Smack dab in the middle of a store is always the worst place to panic, and yet I always do. I lean over the grocery cart and study the contents, mentally checking off my ingredients list: the cheapest greens, check; minced garlic, check; a plethora of everyday...

Look Alive

Look Alive

June 4th, 1857  The sky is crying. So am I. The rain drowns the small blue flower in my hands. I let the petals wash away, one by one. I stare at the brown heap in front of me, praying that my father will jump out from the dirt and hold me safe. He ain’t even...

Ask The Stars

Ask The Stars

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....

The Cactus Epistles

The Cactus Epistles

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

The House

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...

Nothingness

Nothingness

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...

As He Says

As He Says

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...

American Seuel

American Seuel

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,”...

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