Tag: short story

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@ Heathrow

“I’ll sit anywhere,” she told the airline attendant behind the counter whose name tag read Patrick. It was 3 o’clock in the morning, London time, and Heather was surviving on fumes by that point, in a race against time trying to make her way back to Chicago. “Listen, I missed my flight, but it wasn’t … Continue reading @ Heathrow

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Painting

“The fence needs to be repainted,” she says, to no one in particular. I happen to be around, but I know she can’t possibly be talking to me. I don’t do painting. “It’s a week long job,” she continues, and I stare back at her, defiance in my glare, yet still silent. “Because, you know, … Continue reading Painting

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Tell No Tales

“Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them.” ~George Eliot The ditch was huge, an entire town’s worth of real estate under sea level, testament to what twelve men, a pickax, and five shovels can do under duress. To fall into the ditch was like dropping from a two story building, … Continue reading Tell No Tales

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Perfect Skin

“If I feel this feeling, will you crawl out of your perfect skin and climb into mine?” ~Black Lab There was just something about the rain that captivated her, that steady drumming on the tin roof of the little house, the water occasionally finding imperceptible holes, forcing its way inside. She could sit in the … Continue reading Perfect Skin

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Tone Deaf

The telephone rings, effectively cutting off his soaring falsetto right at its apex. He frowns before picking it up, knowing before the voice even begins speaking that it’s his brother again, and that he wants more money. It’s sad that he knows all of this ahead of time, because it means he can never enjoy … Continue reading Tone Deaf