“Nana,” the child says, her hand hesitantly tugging on the bedsheet.

“Hmm?” the old woman hums. Her eyes open slowly, as if it takes all her remaining strength to move her eyelids.

“Why do you wear that?”

She points a tiny finger at the scarf tied around her grandmother’s wrist – red silk laying against the hospital-white sheet.

“Ah.” The woman swallows, a dry, scraping sound. “This is for my...

The knocking comes sharp and fast. Rap. Rap. Rap.

I’m already awake. Have been since Mike finally came to bed an hour ago. I _had_ been asleep. Soundly. For hours. How many times had I asked him to come to bed at a decent time? Or, at the very least, to not _thunk_ himself down onto our sagging mattress? Mike getting to bed was like a tsunami, my body flinging off the crest of the mountainous wav...

The water swirls pink in the sink. I scrub furiously at my hands, working the dried blood from my skin. It’s settled in my cuticles and under my nails; creased in the lines of my knuckles. Tiny lines of red that tell me I’ve done something horrible. If I only I could remember what it was.

Someone pounds at the bathroom door.

“Anna, hurry up! I’m late for work,” Sasha, my roommate, yells.

“On...

It’s the middle of November and I’m trudging through three feet of snow because, much to my dismay, bodies don’t just bury themselves. _Sigh. The things I do for money._

Lucky for me, the snow is light and kicks away from me in delightful puffs with each step I take. Sunlight comes through the trees in golden columns. The ground glitters like millions of tiny diamonds. It pays to notice the beau...

_60 seconds._

That’s all the text message says. I don’t recognize the number. When I reply with a _‘?’_, I see _Message Failed_ in tiny red letters. I try again, and the same _Message Failed_ alert appears.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I debate sending a third time. The message bothers me. _60 seconds? What does that mean? Who is this? Wrong number? Spam?_ Questions roll through my mi...

The silver tea service, polished to a high sheen, glinted in the sunlight streaming through the large bay windows. The value of the teapot alone would have paid our rent for a month. A woman in a simple black uniform leaned over the low mahogany table, pouring amber liquid in a steady unbroken stream into two dainty teacups. She prepared each cup with milk and sugar - though I hadn’t specified how...

In the heart of the city

Under neon lights

Our paths crossed

Igniting endless nights

Summer became winter

You sweetly held me tight

Day fell to darkness

Our passion burned bright

City summers returned

The sun a sore sight

We said our goodbyes

An end to endless nights...

David O’Neil sat at his desk at the front of classroom, pretending to read the book in his hand with one eye while keeping the other eye on his students as they finished the chapter he’d asked them to read. It was a few minutes until the lunch bell and he was thinking longingly about the turkey sandwich waiting for him in the teacher’s lounge fridge.

Voices murmured as some students finished the ...

Richard sat across from the young woman at the old farmhouse table he kept in the back room of his shop. He watched intently as she carefully pulled the glass dropper out of one of the bottles in front of her and brought it to her nose. Her nose crinkled slightly and she pulled the dropper away.

“The scent is quite concentrated,” Richard said. “You only need to bring it a few inches from your nos...

*continued from Matilda and Hopper Pt. 1*

Matilda slept fitfully. Hopper watched from his bed as she shifted on the mattress, her body trying to get comfortable even while her mind was locked in dream. He lay comfortably in his own bed set on top of a tall table directly under the east facing window. While some humans might force their gremlins to sleep in a crate lined with linens like a mere pe...