Edward, Times Change
The clock shop smells of old wood and brass. A shaft of hallway light cuts through the crowded clocks, reflecting off their glass and polished cases. Edward pauses, remembering…
Maeve, The Game
I lie still beneath the autumn leaves as their edges poke my chin. Their golden-brown cover muffles the distant voices.
Roland, Asks Nothing
Gravel and leaves shift beneath his feet. The forest asks nothing of him—no decision, no answer. It simply lets him be.
Fanciful Friday: Abstracts
They say life is what happens when you’re busy making plans, but sometimes life is what happens when you’re trying to remember what day it is—especially when it’s late Thursday, and your specific blog post for Friday isn’t even a figment of your imagination yet. One day, you’re heroically waiting for a new piece of…
Natalie, Someone New
Natalie used to paint standing, stretching to reach the tops of her canvases. After the chair, she spent a week staring at a blank one.
