Story Series: Part 2

I figured this format could become an on-going story series. Part 1 is here. I am ashamed of sharing my feelings with him. A lizard runs across the bathroom ceiling as I am brushing my teeth. I stare at it, look at it without hesitating. It looks back at me. I continue brushing my teeth.... Continue Reading →

Notes From a Fragrant Night

Disclaimer: Not all of this is true. Not all of it is false. Maybe it is my teeth, I think to myself shying away from my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Some baking soda should do it, make them brighter, cleaner, and it would help amble things along. I've dimmed all the lights and lit... Continue Reading →

Slow Fade

I eat an entire loaf of banana cake, picking it out with my bare hands thinking about that yellow sweater in the window of the shop I pass by every day. Maybe I should buy the yellow sweater, clean out the new drawers decaying with the promise of old things, not eat an entire loaf... Continue Reading →

Reminding Me

At one point they were standing outside the house of an old man who ran the garage where they had sought help. The house was doused in the glow of a small yellow light. The man's wife was frail and yet she filled the house. Their son had just come home. This was a small... Continue Reading →

Comes and Goes (In Waves)

Earlier this year, I read Things I Don't Want to Know by Deborah Levy. It's a first person narrative of the South African writer and her answer to George Orwell's essay, "Why I Write". At the time, I was also reading another book in which there is an Egyptian character who is a paying guest... Continue Reading →

Six Word Story

Unwritten letters bled. Words fell off. Entry to the six-word story challenge by Ben Nicholson that I read on the Devilrockz blog.

Rule of the Thumb

I can't remember when I became so mainstream. It's always easy if the tragedy happens to someone else. It's been taught and re-taught how to sigh and say how sorry you are, or how it shouldn't have happened. But I've still swapped my potato chips for the chocolates as an emotional eating ritual. And like... Continue Reading →

How Winning is Done

*Although the incidents of this story are fictional, the premise is from┬áreal life.* It was a humid day, and she wiped the sweat on his forehead with a white and blue napkin. The trains stood tired and stared at each other unable to make basic conversation. She got into one of them and he gave... Continue Reading →

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