“Dolores sat and wept in pain until the early hours of the morning. With what strength she had after her shock, she dragged herself across the room, pulling herself through shattered glass from family portraits and the scattered contents of her nightstand drawers.”
Morning at the coffeeshop Cheating traffic, the back-roads White clouds, the pale sky Parking near water, a book Midday at the bay, the breeze Water on your feet and scallop shells My sister’s laughter—baby mischief, feeling glad Scanning the view, … Read More
We asked our stable of unstable writers to reflect on fear — personal, conceptual, metaphysical. They started with 300 words and narrowed focus and word count, by halves.
