Stories tagged separation

Stream of Unconsciousness

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In his dream, he was choking on an ice cube. He didn’t know what would happen first — if it would melt or he would die.

Half-and-Half

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Terry worked in a factory out in Northlake where she added a little squirt of milk and another little squirt of cream to those tiny half-and-half coffee creamers you find at every motel in the country. The owner of that factory hired only women to work

You Shine Brightest Under the Starlit Sky

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You shine brightest under a starlit skyThe moon reflects your beautyAs the wind sings your name sweetlyIt was under the heavens that we promised togetherThat I'll hold your hand and you'll be mine forever... You glow brightest when the sun is at its highestYour radiant…

Rope & Bone '86

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His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.

Taxis

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The burgeoning grace her dancing showed was replaced with muscular awkwardness and limbs that didn't quite want to obey their master. But it was worse. The vivacious seven-year-old girl was gone and had been replaced by a frustrated two-year-old who kne

Lovely

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I would open an eye, waiting for it to absorb the scant light in the room, and I would see her on the far edge of the bed, the topography of her hips now a battlement to keep me at bay.

Separation Anxiety

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She dreams he is coming home. A flicker of light upon a spine, he is floating toward her over food courts and luggage carousels, through time zones pocked with stoplights and the bulge of alternate lives. They never travel together -- like the royals, they say.…

Jump Seat

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It had been one of those bad days when it seemed to Nina like all the other fifth-grade girls had transformed into aliens that only cared about lip gloss and eighth-grade boys. The last thing she needed was to see Ibrahim and Abuela waiting for her after

Some Will Leave

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There is so much I need to say to him, if only I knew how. The words I used to say now have different meanings, and the words I use, I don’t know their meanings anymore.

A Dead Grandmother Story

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I once had a Creative Writing teacher's assistant from San Diego at the University of Pittsburgh tell our class "Please don't submit dead grandmother stories here. I know you loved your grandmother, but everyone's grandmother dies. And everyone writes a story about how…

WE WOKE UP LEAN

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We were careful not to wake the kids & goodbye with a handshake & my skeleton is trapped with your universe inside.