“There they are again—don’t look!”
Yolie froze, mid-fold, and snapped her head forward again to look at Luxe. “Who?”
Luxe glanced up over Yolie’s shoulder. “You know who…Burgundy.” He glanced back down at the socks that he was rolling. “So, are we going to do it?” Continue reading
Naomi clicked on her recorder, took a deep breath, and asked her grand-aunty Z about the one thing that her mother and grandmother told her to never, ever, never, never, ever ask her about.
“Aunty, what did you see when you went into Mausefalle Manor? And how is it that you got out when so many other people never did?” Continue reading
“Welcome to Thoughtsburger, would you like to try our new Weltschmerz platter with a side of Bitterness and Longing?”
Ria stared at the person who had just addressed her. “Uh, no, thank you.”
“May I take your order?” Continue reading
As the flight attendants did their usual safety orientation, demonstrating the use of the oxygen mask, and where to pull on the flotation devices under the seat cushions, John drew in his elbows, tried to bring his knees together, and muttered a curse against himself under his breath.
Why couldn’t you just pay the thirty bucks to upgrade to an aisle seat? Continue reading
“What did you come here looking for, Dorian?” she asked.
A rumble of thunder sounded outside. And the rain seemed to thicken. Instead of the quick but distinct droplets, there were now just splashes and slaps of water hitting the little house that had been converted into the psychic’s parlor. The lights flickered. Continue reading
This week’s story will be posted soon. This is the anniversary post for Storyfeather’s sixth year!
The Year of Definitions is done! That was the theme for Storyfeather Year Six. Continue reading
What have I done? I asked myself. And the question sparked excitement. And the question sparked fear. Continue reading
“There’s no need for this,” Morgan said, glancing over to his right shoulder, where a heavy hand lay on him, holding him in place. “I came willingly.”
He was in the living room of the woman who had introduced herself as A.J. The woman whom he suspected was responsible for the “resurrections.” Morgan hadn’t quite figured out what term he would use for it in his story. Continue reading
I am only a student. That’s why she came to me, trusting that I would have a sufficient balance of knowledge and naiveté to serve her desperate need.
And I am woman. That’s why she came to me, trusting that I would not mark her concerns as mere hysterics.
What was this strange and destructive condition she bore? She spoke of hurting her husband and fleeing from her children so that she would never hurt them. She spoke of being pursued by authorities in dark garb. Continue reading
Five people got on that elevator with me. A woman with a shy little kid hiding behind her coat. A business guy with a cool three-D holographic tie. A teenage girl with a portfolio and a couple of poster tubes strapped to her back. And the older man in the back with a bag of delicious-smelling takeout. Continue reading