This introvert grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and still lives around the area today. It’s a nice place to live, besides the winter weather. I would say fall is my favorite season. Not too warm and not too cold, for the most part. 72 degrees being perfect.
When I was in college, I wasn’t in any writing programs or seeking to be a journalist. Actually, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do career-wise. Eventually, while at community college for my first 2 years, I settled on business, perhaps looking into management one day. …
I had no genuine friendships, bar one. His name was Abraham. My parents dubbed him imaginary and dismissed me. He may have been invisible, but he was real to me. So I proved it. Flour dusted on the floor made my parents angry. Then they saw footprints forming in the particulate.
A Short Horror Story
A woman named Emily Weathers was found dead in her apartment on July 10th by one of her neighbors. The neighbor said it smelled a mix of sulphur and ash, to which they called the management to investigate. Upon forced entry after repeated attempts to get into contact with Miss Weathers, management found her body on the floor, arms folded over her chest, with her eyes missing.
Reports also note a symbol of wings in what was confirmed to be her own blood was drawn around her, giving her the appearance of an angel.
Cold water touched my face, streaming down my cheeks, saturating my clothes. The longer I stood there, the harder the rain felt, the more frequent it hit. Almost as if trying to wake me up from this nightmare I’m in.
Hair no longer able to hold water allowed it to pour down my face, along the sides, and back of my neck. It was fresh, a familiar smell, natural.
Flashes of light illuminated my home, revealing a scene inside. Rumbling rolled above, matching the anger within me at the way he touched her.
My own tears mixed in with the…
Usual hangout spot, predictable conversions, familiar faces. My friends and I, like every weekend night, met downtown to sit on a low brick wall in an alleyway, discussing the latest video games, or which girl from school they were attracted to now.
The same conversations on repeat, with an occasional discussion on a deeper topic to spice things up, normally started by me. Every weekend, identical.
Until tonight. The unvaried conversions ongoing, and I was only half listening as I noted people walking past, on their way to the bars or the theater, whatever they fancied for the night.
The rock soared through the air like it had caught the air and rode it. Gravity reasserted itself, tugging the rock back down towards the earth. It hit the mud, splashing up dirty water around it. Sunken a few inches in, the rock found its new resting place amongst other rocks recently thrown to this very location.
Jason snatched another rock next to him, arcing it the same as he did before, then chucked it into the air. It soared like the others, landing near the creek 50 feet in front of him.
He swiped the rest off of the…
A Flash Fiction
Was it hard? When it happened?
I can’t begin to know how you must’ve felt. I’m sorry.
But that’s the way of life, isn’t it? Random things happen, both good and bad, and we are left to deal with the aftermath.
Or rather you, I suppose. I’m sorry, I really am.
I never thought this would happen to me. Not me. It almost doesn’t even feel real, but what is feeling anymore?
I bet you’re feeling a lot. And I’m sorry for that.
I come to see you every day. Every day. Since the beginning of the…
A Flash Fiction
I lay here, watching. Just watching. Watching life go on without me. No longer needed. No longer useful.
But that’s okay. I understand why. I had a long run after all.
I remember the good times, like hanging out with my friend at school all day. Sometimes his friends on occasion. I remember the bad times too. Like when my friend accidently injured me. He didn’t mean it, he was just frustrated and got a little rough.
But that’s okay. I still supported him.
Until now, I can’t anymore, and it saddens me. He replaced me, went…
I sit here reading my book. A good book. An adventurous book.
I check the time, though I already checked it several times in the past few minutes. I know it’ll happen soon.
So I continue to read my book. An admirable book. A realistic book.
Then, right on time, the knock came. At first, it was soft, then it grew rougher. More aggressive. Soon the door was being pounded on, the knob shaking violently.
But I turned back to my book. My valuable book. My picture book.
I did my best to ignore the desperate attempts to get inside…