echo
My grandfather pushes me towards the swings on the playground, mumbling as he lights a cigarette. When the echo burbles along the cracked asphalt, I shout, dancing away from the willowy streak.
I stumble into his leg.
“Damn kids.”
He growls, shoving me, and I fall, scraping my knees. Later, my mother asks if my bloody palms are the reason for my tears. I can’t answer, my heart in my mouth like the echo filling the whites of my grandfather’s eyes as his lips formed the curse again and again.
slumber
The vines are dry and bristly, and their harsh, furred thorns claw into my skin. It’s been a long time, but when the sunlight buries itself hotly into my scalp, I remember.
Slumber caught me on a warm summer day, but now I am awake.
This is no fairy tale.
loop
The handwriting was smooth, each loop unwavering.
Kellan had been investigating for months. The evidence was damning but led to more than one suspect, each of whom had motive and opportunity. He was thinking in circles, returning to each fragment, when the note materialized on his desk.
No one in the office could explain who put it there, and the security cameras glitched on playback. The ominous words on the pristine slip seemed to smirk at him now.
you’re next
bet
I tap my foot to The Who and stare at my Tiger Beat magazine. This is my favorite issue, because both Sean and David Cassidy grace the pages between the fading covers.
My sister and I once planned to run away to California, where we would, by some miracle, marry the Cassidy brothers. But she died before we were grown.
As I hum along to You Better, You Bet, I’m sure she and David are singing it together in heaven.
these microdoses were inspired by prompts from Miguel S.at The Fiction Dealer, and previously shared as individual Notes. Thanks for the inspiration, Miguel!
I don’t drink coffee anymore but I adore matcha. You can buy me one or just click over and take a look at some random photos and snag a free black cat lined notebook page PDF to print or use with any PDF annotation app.