Ghost Story

With less of a howl than a deathbed whisper, an icy wind passes over Elliot’s sleeping form, rustling the hairs at the nape of their neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps along their moon-washed skin. They stir a little and nestle deeper into their tangled mass of blankets, their arms tightening around the star-streaked,…

Escape

It’s dusk. The sky is an oil slick seeping down into the horizon, scraps of twilight catching in the bare bones of trees. Everything has taken on a bruised sheen. Elliot sees it all. Their headphones curl dormant around their neck as they press their nose to their bedroom window, breathing in the coolness of…

The Macabre Misadventures of Larry Love

Lucy’s knife scrapes across her plate, making a massacre of her soggy mozzarella sticks. For the fourth night in a row, it’s the only sound either of them makes. Larry doesn’t say anything. His eyes follow the path of a fly buzzing through fan blades on the misty smoker’s patio, glazed with sleep. Lucy pulls…

Dog Star

Ash stands in the yard, the night breeze brushing their harvest-moon skin. It’s cold (although, master of homeostasis that they are, they do not shift or shiver) and their bare arms prickle with scattered goosebumps that mirror the steady stars above. “Look, Olly, the Big Dipper,” they croon, but the dog continues to attend to…

Out of the Tower

Once upon a time, there was a hill, with a tall tower at the top and a tangle of a forest at the bottom. In the tall tower was a princess with a dark river of hair and eyes like stained glass windows. In the forest were trees and soft shadows and flowers that smelled…

Empty

Jane shifts in the chair. Despite the rough powder blue fabric stretched over it, it is not soft, and she feels it pressing into her, flat and harsh. She has crossed and uncrossed her legs more times than she can count, but the one resting on top now has already begun to prickle with numbness…

Promise

From far away, he is a scar. He is hole in the seam of the sky, a piece of the darkness gathered beneath, the first blot of night. A shard of shadow borne by the sea.On closer inspection, he is a man, an old one, standing on a twilit beach. He is barefoot, and November…

The Flight Home

I grip the handle of my suitcase harder and step out into the crowded airport. Follow the signs, check in to my flight. Security is that way. I haven’t seen her in three months. I haven’t seen her since the accident. While I flew home with my parents, she stayed at the hospital in Boston.…