Tag Archives: Mainstream

Word Count: 384 He hated the holidays; Christmas with its false promise of joy, the New Year’s intent to be peaceful. He dragged his baggage behind him, straining like a dog on a leash following his nose, anxious to feel that … Continue reading →

Word Count: 218 The wind is insistent, huffing and puffing to blow down the doors. Scratching at windows with fingers of yew. Rattling and grumbling the shutters. I sit on the couch by the front picture window, daring the rest … Continue reading →

Word Count: 382 It’s been twenty years, maybe ten since I’ve painted the bathroom ceiling. Almost twelve since he died. The man who left pencil marks around the hole where he helped put in a new lighting fixture, complete with … Continue reading →

Word Count: 421 My friend Thomas won’t leave the house without first winning three games in a row of Solitaire on his laptop. I’ve also heard he won’t even take a shower before, for fear he may drown. He’s a great … Continue reading →

Word Count: 393 The silence is so deafening with its drumming. The day is so dark with its night. The world is so small with its oceans and forests and the horizon is littered with trees. Something, a small noise, … Continue reading →

She was told to fire him and she couldn’t tell the manager that she couldn’t fire him because they were dating and it would be, well, very awkward and probably impossible for her to do. She was that type of … Continue reading →

Word Count: 426 She was seventeen that year. She knew everything; knew nothing. Amazing how you can look backwards and see things the way they really were instead of how you perceived them when you were young. She couldn’t have … Continue reading →

Word Count: 129 In the cold gray of dawn the bare trees reach up to scratch the sky with their fingers, leaving holes for ghosts to float through. My mother, my father, my brother, my friends; then my lovers all … Continue reading →

Word Count: 370 The black dog was out of a gothic romance, long-haired and long-limbed and silent with eyes red and glowing. Carrie remembered his name from the novel: Damascus. It wasn’t black when she got him; she used Clairol … Continue reading →

Word Count: 293 When he came home he pulled seventeen slivers out of his fingers, making a wish on each one. His mother had instilled in him a strong bond with Jesus and it held him tight through his teens. … Continue reading →