The nurses forbid us from touching our feet to the floor. We were to stay in bed. So we made the tiles below a river and rode our mattresses across them like boats into dark tunnels. Sometimes we’d emerge to the other side, surrounded by mountains that flinched as we approached. Even the landmasses feared
Category: flash prose
Mom thinks a pet would cure my melancholia. I’m not sure. Right now, we’re sitting in her car in the pet store parking lot. She won’t go in because my sister Becca’s ex, Brandon, works here. Becca ran off with her new boyfriend four weeks ago, and my imaginary friend St. Nicole came back, so
I’m just starting to make caramel in my parents’ kitchen in New Jersey when my mother pulls a great big hamper of laundry up to the counter across from me and starts folding it. I measure some sugar and some water into a pot with high sides and turn on the flame, a real flame
We met as i was climbing out of the mirror. Because you thought i was a glitch in your own reflection it was easy to convince you to let me live inside you. i thought it was sort of funny that the newspapers would call my ascension a suicide, that they would never notice i
