(Trigger warning: self-harm) If I were a doctor, a surgeon, and a patient came in with a gunshot wound, I think I would know what to do. Where to focus my concern. If a patient came in with shrapnel, tiny bits of metal embedded throughout her body, my path might not be so clear. Which […]
Kyle and Lisa sat on the weathered bench, paper coffee cups in hand, looking out over the small lake. They were silent and it wasn’t a comfortable silence. It was the kind of brittle quiet that strains the air until it threatens to crack like glass. It was bad, this quiet. As Lisa had known
Stella sat on the floor, her back propped against the leather couch and a sea of color spread before her. Rolls of wrapping paper stacked to her left, scissors and tape to her right. Papery department store bags stood tall, their curved handles defying gravity, while glossy plastic bags slumped by their sides in slippery
Evie was in Venice when she first saw the clown. She was there on a vacation with her two best friends, three days after their college graduation. Four hard years of studying, six months of saving. The decadent trip was a dream they had worked toward together. Evie, Sarah and Adele. It was the first
There was no electricity in the old hospital, yet sunlight, streaming through broken window panes, cast a pale glow over the empty rooms. The building had been condemned, and bold signs ineffectively warned trespassers away. College kids arrived at night, leaving beer bottles and cigarettes in their wake. Daytime brought younger teens who played hide-and-seek
