Posts Taggedvery short story


It’s hard to find butterflies here, or even flies.

There are bees, though, they’re always hanging around Washington Square Park, buzzing around the sticky sweet juice dripping down your hand from the popsicle you got at the ice-cream stand.

You block out the sound of traffic and listen to the rasta drum beats and smell the weed that’s everywhere now, and the whole time this warm breeze of city filth swirls around you.

In the middle of the biggest city you find a flower ridiculously alive, crawling from a crack in the concrete.

It’s the bravest thing you’ve ever seen.… Read the rest

My home reeks of flowers, and not in a good way.

There are just too many. Bouquet after bouquet that arrived like clockwork at ten every morning with a new way to say “I love you.”

I do love flowers, and I love the diamonds he gives me; I love the trips we take on his private jet to glittering cities like Paris and Tokyo.

But the flowers, they’re suffocating me.

It’s too much.

It’s too much to feel like you’re the center of someone’s world, too much to feel like someone’s happiness depends on you.

I don’t want this.… Read the rest


Goodbye to all the people who said I couldn’t do it.

Peace out to those who never believed in me, and fuck off to those who have hoped I’d fail.

I am up at five o’clock every morning to put words on a page because this is my story and I want to write it and write for a living like I used to.

So be wary, writers, of putting all your eggs in one basket, because if the basket drops, you do, too.

Get up early. Get your butt in the chair.

Wake up your imagination and say hello.… Read the rest

“Write an English sonnet centered on the theme of the supernatural.”

Yeah, okay, I thought as I closed my laptop. No schoolwork for me today.

Instead I’m going to go out and enjoy the fresh air under a blue sky full of clouds and dance in the grass until I have to collapse there, lest I die.

I will lay and feel the breeze and smell the flowers around me, and hear the children laughing and the birds singing.

I can’t help but think it wasn’t writing to themes Shakespeare was worried about, it was missing perfect days like these.… Read the rest


They got him a new car every time he crashed his old one.

The kid was a speed demon, but they loved him no matter how reckless he was, no matter how casual he was with taking other people’s lives in his careless hands.

Trying to stop him was useless. He would have left home, he would have disappeared on them.

They would try to reason with him, they would tell him he might ruin his future (but not that he might die) and his only answer was:

“Speed never killed anyone. It’s becoming suddenly stationary, that’s what gets you.”… Read the rest


Forty-three years and I still feel like I am a child that is working hard on figuring things out on my own because no one cares enough to care for me.

I forgot to pay my taxes, I don’t know how to submit an insurance claim, I don’t know how to refinance my car, and feel like all I have to turn to is my new best friend Claude.

Is it ever really too late?

I mean, to become the person I want to be?

The sun is starting to set on this life, but I am not done yet.… Read the rest


I didn’t want to fight. I wasn’t made for battle, I was made to sit on a throne and be quiet and pretty.

When my brother ran in, he was already mortally wounded and died in my arms.

His blood was the anger I needed to pick up his sword and fight back.

A rebel entered. Had I been empty handed, he may have left, but I was armed, and he engaged me.

His sword came down, and I saw the faces of my people in his blade.

I hacked and stabbed and finally killed him.

But all for nothing.… Read the rest

“Tell me, was I just another pawn in your elaborate game of chess?”

“You were, but unlike the other pawns you managed to become my queen.”

“I am not your queen! I have no crown; she got your crown!”

“But you get me. You get my nights my mornings, my kisses, my hugs and love. You get all of that, she gets none of it.”

“Games! It’s just games you play and nonsense you speak!”

“No, my love, no, you are the queen of my heart.”

“But not by name, so I will never sit by you on your throne.”… Read the rest

When the chimp attacked I left my body. I wasn’t there when he pounded at my face with his fists, when he jumped up and down on my stomach and groin, crushing me.

I barely remember being taken away with lights flashing, sirens blaring, but I remember waking up in agony, feeling like someone had ripped my body apart and sloppily put it back together.

“I’m sorry, the injuries to your face were too severe, we couldn’t save it,” the doctor said.

I know I’m a monster, but I’m trying to approach life with grace, while wearing someone else’s face.… Read the rest


“It’s never going to work,” I say, her upturned palm in my hand. “No matter how much he loves you, even if he marries you, he’s always going to love her more.”

“Then why is he doing this to me?”

“Because he thinks he won’t find better or ever be happy again. This is his best worst option.”

She cries, and the psychic shifts.

“Just leave him. He doesn’t really want to be with you, and deep down you know it.”

The other woman thanks me, sobbing, and runs out.

I step over the psychic I knocked out, leaving smiling.… Read the rest