The following is an excerpt from a short story I wrote for the 2016 Winter Writing Contest hosted by Short Fiction Break. The theme was “Two Worlds.” This story won first place for fiction. Click here to read the full story. Continue reading
By the time he got to the restaurant people were already turning out. It wasn’t yet dark, but inside the place was dimly lit. He didn’t see her so he sat down at a table in the corner. A waiter came and he ordered a whiskey neat. He took out his pen and began to write on a napkin to pass the time.
He heard the door open and he looked up and saw her. The first thing he noticed was her figure silhouetted in the doorway. She looked like she’d walked off of a movie screen.
The second thing he noticed was her expression, which told him this would not be a good meeting nor a long one. It disappointed him—she looked beautiful this evening.
It was a little after noon when we got to the park. We’d walked, as we’d done so many times before, from our little place tucked away beneath the trees. The morning had been cool and wet, but the rising sun was already burning away the dew. We walked past home after familiar home, pointing out our favorites like we always did. Though we hadn’t been inside any of them, we would miss them all the same. We’d miss their coziness and the way they made us feel when we imagined the lives and the love of the families who warmed them. Continue reading
Note: “We Shattered Glass” is a fictional short story. All characters and events are entirely made up.
We shattered glass. Thick, heavy, wine-bottle-brown glass and dainty, clear, champagne-flute glass. We hurled them against the faded brick wall on the abandoned mill across town, alcohol coursing through our veins, music blaring from our trucks, and howls bursting from our lungs. It was our ritual, our church, our drug. We shattered glass because the world was slowly shattering us. Continue reading
Darkness came upon the great antique city, and with it came a delicate drizzle of rain. The city clothed itself in so much artificial light that it appeared to be dripping fire from the heavens. The water fell lightly and steadily, streaming from every roof and cornice and gutter until it found its way in between the craggy, gray cobblestones that lay in the streets. Overtime the cracks between the stones became completely filled with water, and from a distance the ground appeared smooth and unbroken.
An older man ran heavily down a skinny street, with only a drab coat to buffer him from the rain. His dark hair was speckled with gray and even through his coat one could see his round mid-section. Tired lines streaked across his face, and yet they did little to diminish his brilliant blue eyes.