by Raven I dreamt about him again last night. He was thin and pale, maybe sick, or just underslept. I drove him down treacherous roads, weaving around tight curves, going faster and faster, until we arrived at my home in some foreign place. I didn't ponder where we were, because in dreams thinking only distracts … Continue reading Dark Blue
Tag: story
Pushing Forward
By Cheyenne Shrader She felt the muscles in her thighs tense as her heels pushed down and back and down and back propelling her bike forward. Each pedal pushing away the bullshit. The only sounds to be heard were the chirping of crickets, the occasional croak of frogs and the steady mechanical sound of her … Continue reading Pushing Forward
That Woman
by Ella She had her scarf tightly wrapped around her face as she joined me under the heat lamps. It’s cold,” she said, “It’s cold.” I nodded in agreement, exaggeratedly, so that she could see my acknowledgment through my own fastened scarf. She continued speaking about little things as though I had given her more … Continue reading That Woman
Death
by Collyn Warner The Death Card sits wedged in the pocket of her denim jeans as she fumbles with the corner of it, trying to make herself feel a little more certain while wearing the card down a bit further. Inevitably when you sit in a coffeeshop and see random pieces of paper stashed in … Continue reading Death
Outpatient
by Ian Watts “I don’t want to talk about it,” Adam mutters, shifting awkwardly as he sits. His suede jacket is folded over crossed arms, clasping it to his chest like a flotation device. He is embarrassed at the words as soon as he speaks them; they make him feel small, like a child petulantly … Continue reading Outpatient
Riches to Rags
by Michael Drone “I don’t want to talk about it!” Usually when a homeless person walks up to me they just want money or food, something along those lines. This was a new tactic, so I bit. He didn’t seem like the average sort, wasn’t drunk or strung out, just looked like he had a … Continue reading Riches to Rags
Sunday, 6pm
by Ola Faleti "I don't want to talk about it." "Yes, you do. You have that stupid grin all over your face." "I think I love her." "Really?" "Nah, but her tongue is incredible." "You bastard." "She told me she could knot a cherry stem in her mouth." "Mmm hmm." "I believe it." "You shacking … Continue reading Sunday, 6pm
