Solitary
It was always the resounding silence of the early mornings, the time when those with schedules proving they made something of themselves...
What Was
I rediscover what once was myself sometimes. I will stumble across a handwritten note, in what isn’t even close to my handwriting...
Pickled Pigs' Feet
I am pickled pigs feet. I know this is not the most flattering of self-descriptions, and I suppose the simpler explanation would be to...
The dark silence
It is the silence that drapes like a dark velvet curtain with the settling of night that can no longer keep quiet the storm inside of me....
The struggle is real
I'm sitting in my squeaky office chair, glancing at the clock every couple of minutes. I don't know why I think it will move faster if I...
Always a Bridesmaid (Short story written in 9 minutes)
Four Times a Matchmaker Abigail was a peppy, gregarious person with friends galore. She had moved around many times throughout her...
Case of the Mondays
Another Monday at this soul-squashing job. Data entry, hard copies, and multiple Excel worksheets. Approximately three thermoses of...