Garage

The elevator chimed and the doors slid smoothly open, things Missy barely registered. If it wasn’t contained within the bright glowing world of her phone (blue light filters, Missy believed, were for the weak) it had to be put on the backburner. The act of physically leaving work didn’t mean she was actually leaving workContinue reading “Garage”

In Which Mrs. Loretta McEnnis, Recently Widowed, Discovers Reality Has Folded in on Itself

Loretta retraced her steps of the night. She had supped alone – after Miss Reynolds had deftly turned away dreadful Mrs. Johnson, who seemed to call not to check on Loretta’s welfare but discover if she was ready to admit her husband was dead and have her meet her youngest son, Carroll, and Loretta would reward Miss Reynolds in her weekly pay – and then she had sent Miss Reynolds home for the night. She had tried to sleep, spent some hours tossing and turning, and then had given up entirely. If sleep were to abandon her again, she would rather spend her night staring at the ocean than staring at the top of her bed frame.

Widow’s Walk

It was approaching one in the morning, and like most nights, lately, Ramona was on the rooftop patio of her two-hundred year old coastal Victorian home, sitting in the oversized Adirondack chair her kids had painted, and drinking white wine from the box sitting on the table next to her. Above her were a smattering of stars between oil stain clouds, and a hangnail moon. In front of her was about half a mile of this nothing Maine town and then the never-ending Atlantic, dark and choppy.

Calvin

It was a beautiful night on the promenade. There was a breeze, cool and salty, bringing different smells from the vendors, popcorn and nuts and saltwater taffy all mixing together to create something so sweet it was nearly sickly. Cloying. Way above, a few of the brighter stars shone through. The rest were drowned outContinue reading “Calvin”

Signal to the Noise

In truth, he didn’t have to do much talking. Only the barest amount of small talk, whatever would make it appropriate for a simple touch. A hand shake. A pat on the arm. Sometimes Vinnie didn’t even have to open his mouth. The ballroom was so crowded he could pass off his hand brushing against someone as an accident.

Friends in High Places

He hit her again, in the face this time. She took it with a grunt, her entire body twisting in the chair under the ropes. For a brief second Garza thought she had passed out. Then she opened her eyes and spat blood at the hunter’s feet. Lester looked down at his shoes, once-white sneakers,Continue reading “Friends in High Places”

Woman in White

“Is that someone walking?” “Who’d be walking out here? It must be a deer.” But as their car got closer to the figure on the side of the road, it became impossible to deny that the figure was human. A woman wearing a white dress, dark hair falling down her back. “Why would someone beContinue reading “Woman in White”

A Heatherheart Wake

This is the traditional heatherheart wake. Specifically, this is the wake for Jeremiah Jones, or JJ to his friends and family. He was forty-six years old, and had been a heatherheart for the last eighteen. He was well liked. Real good at the job, very clear-headed and rational, and in the past he had beenContinue reading “A Heatherheart Wake”

Hera

Her mother had named her Hera, so many years ago. It was a name of bravery, her mother would tell her through the mirror as she brushed out her long red hair every night. A name of beauty and elegance. Most importantly, it was a name of power. No man could ever – would ever – dare to betray a woman named Hera. And of course, her mother had been right.