Category Archives: Short Stories

Her phone buzzed over and over, attempting to capture her attention. She didn’t want to look, she knew what it would say: news about things she wasn’t apart of anymore. They’re sending her all the new lists – that’s what … Continue reading →

“What was that?” he called from upstairs, and she listened as his feet hit the hardwood floor. “Just ice,” she mumbled, then a little louder: “Just ice!” “Oh.” He was beside her then, hugging her while she typed away on … Continue reading →

Domestic – that’s how they’re acting. Domestic. The TV is on, she’s at the kitchen table weaving some stories, he’s in the kitchen frying bacon. The smell of the cooking meat fills the house, the sound of Fez’s voice rising … Continue reading →

You wouldn’t believe the way she moves, so gracefully at ease. She has a smile that transforms her face, one that the seamen would do anything to have aimed at them. Her eyes, the devil’s eyes, so warm when in … Continue reading →

The words come to the writer. The works are a scramble of words in the air, and they come to the writer in waves – say this, say that, like palmer declared. He said the writer can never escape the … Continue reading →

He wrote it down on a cocktail napkin, but it’s nowhere to be seen. He searches frantically – the desk, the floor, the closet, the drawers. He can’t find it anywhere, and when she tells him, she grins sheepishly. She … Continue reading →

She keeps going back to that diary, journal, whatever it is. It’s weird, it feels like she writes one entry and then leaves it be, only to come back the next year and read it and think about how…different she … Continue reading →

He jumped at her from behind a bush, making her pee a little in her shorts. “I even said please!” she cried, referring to when she was asking the yard to not scare her. “You made fun of me,” he … Continue reading →

He makes her watch sad movies. Ones where the main character is a dweeb, and he’s bullied because he’s a dweeb, and his uncle dies after they get into a horrible fight and he has to go home to his … Continue reading →

She could sit and watch a thunderstorm for hours…the way the lightning strikes and the thunder crashes, hardly ever together unless it’s supposed to be entirely frightening. A flash of lightning here, a boom of thunder there: a modern dance … Continue reading →