They said she was important, but only called when they wanted help. Their first thought in a crisis, their last for fun. Sometimes she wondered if she was invisible, a phantom floating through life. If ghosts were real, she might have acknowledged the wayward image. Instead, she batted it away, mind flitting to the next thought. If she vanished into the night, how long before they realized she was gone? She double-tapped their party photos to appease them, but her…
He couldn’t remember being this cold before. Not as a child playing outside in the snow, or hours spent at hockey games. The polar bear plunge was frigid, but a temporary chill before warming up again. He knew the freezing chill of a pond after falling through its thin ice one winter. Remembered waking to chattering teeth the year he’d gone camping and woke to his tent covered in ice and snow. It had taken five minutes to break out…
Someone died today. Assaulted with scorching words that sliced wounds so deep they pierced the very heart. It was done with a smile, in a well-meaning attempt to shape and mold, to transform the victim into the best version of themselves. The variation the assailant desired. “That’s stupid.” “No one cares.” “Just shut up.” The words flew from their mouths like birds darting for cover before a storm. There was nowhere to hide from the burning tirade that rained down…
She was born on the fourth of July amidst the parades, picnics, and scorching heat. They named her Liberty because it seemed fitting and patriotic considering the occasion. Marge, humming the Star-Spangled Banner, stared out the hospital window as the sky blossomed with fireworks in an array of patriotic colors, and Bert held their daughter. They share the story every year, embellishing it here and there, always trying to convince people they’d aptly named their carefree and wild child. The…