short stories
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“Some Summers Don’t Stay” Zeke always noticed the sun before the sky. He would walk down the cracked sidewalks with his eyes half open, soaking in the golden light as if it could burn out the cold parts of him. That day in late June would be the day he met Scottie. On that day,
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“Some Summers Don’t Stay” Fall moved in like someone who didn’t knock first. One morning, Scottie woke to the sound of wind pressing against the window, not violently, but insistently, as if it needed to be let in. Zeke was already gone. There hadn’t been a final night, no drawn-out goodbye. Only a pause in
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“Some Summers Don’t Stay” Late summer clung to the city like a whispered promise: warm sidewalks, the taste of sun in the air, long shadows cast by tired trees. It was the kind of warmth that made you believe nothing could leave you. Scottie sat on the rusted park bench beneath a tall tree by
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Would you sit with it? I suppose that’s the real question, what causes the itch to fill the void between you cannot stand to sit with it. I sit with it too long perhaps…
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The writer in the dark; these conversations always grow silent, as if they never took place, always accepting fate for what it is. People may or may not be as they seem, where actions matter more than words because words never align with actions. Quickly, almost all at once, it feels as if you’re sitting
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At first, I wasn’t okay with the silence, which hurt even more because I had begged for it. I pleaded for someone to pull the rug out from beneath my feet. I manifested for something, anything, to throw me off my balance. I knew it would change many things. I knew my mind would often
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I fear writing this story incorrectly because every letter and every syllable is deeply intertwined with the way my heart and soul once were. The past tense matters here; it carries the weight of what was and what can never be again. If I had written this sooner and hadn’t waited, the story would still
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September 22, 2021 Dear Autumn, Please be kind to me. Life is finally moving towards the bright side of things. I am in a brand-new state, mentally and physically. Most nights, I don’t feel like I’m going to make it. I’ve grown to find comfort in fight-or-flight situations, and I know that’s not normal. Most
Written Through These Amber Eyes 