Althea, September 1966 “James, are you out there?” Althaea and James let go of each other and sat up straight. “It’s okay,” James whispered. “It’s just my mother.” “Your mother?” I didn’t think my heart could beat any faster than it did when I put my head on James shoulder just a few minutes earlier,…
ALTHAEA – September, 1966 I could feel his eyes on me. I pretended I was reading, but every few minutes I would casually glance up to see him watching me from across the room. When he stood, I bolted. James Porter. I had heard there was a new kid in school. I didn’t usually bother…
The dream I had in the treehouse haunted me, but it didn’t stop me from heading back there every chance I got. Today was no different. It was the perfect day to curl up with my sketchbook, and lose myself in the scratching sound of my pencil, as images leaped from my mind to paper.…
I was traveling down the long dirt road behind my grandmother’s house when I saw it. It stood alone. It was the prettiest tree I had ever seen, the sunlight hit its branches as though each was lightly wrapped in twinkling white lights. And, nestled in the middle, was a tree house. I wondered if…
She swiftly pulls out her notebook, and places a set of colored markers beside it on the desk. Next, she opens her laptop and slides it to the left side so she has room to angle her notebook. She’s right-handed. I watch her intently, so close I could reach out and touch her, though…
The world was her stage and I secretly gave her the title, Queen of Everything. She was only ten years old yet carried herself like royalty, spending her afternoons walking an imaginary runway in her mom’s heels, schoolbooks precariously stacked atop her head. I looked up to her in much the same way I did my…
I didn’t plan to kill her, but all brides walk through that front door as though they own the place. It’s my name on the sign, Mona’s Bridal, not theirs. They’re not better than me just because they were able to hang onto their fiancé. Now I’ll never get the blood out of this white…
Her hands tremble as she smooths out the crumpled piece of lined yellow paper. She can barely make out the smeared blue ink. The words come out in broken whispers, “I can’t go on. My lips no longer form the battle cry I’ve summoned in years past. This world keeps shrinking and my disquiet holds me hostage. I’m a prisoner of…
I made my way slowly through the aisles with purpose, though what purpose I wasn’t sure. My eyes took in letters which made up words, clothed in different colors. I was the hunter with no idea of my prey though I was certain it would be made clear in that moment when I happened upon…
This was not the day she had imagined when her alarm clock went off this morning. Notorious for running late, she still took the time to straighten her hair and apply makeup. It was the first day of her senior year, and Clarice was ready to graduate and pursue her dream. She stood before…
LITTLE MISS WORDY 