Tommy sat rigid on the counter and stared at the drop of blood seeping from the wound on his leg until Meg wiped it clean and applied a flesh-colored bandage that clashed with his dark skin. Instead of climbing down and scampering off to play, Tommy remained on the counter, scrutinizing his hands. He glanced at Meg and waited while she discarded the bandaid wrapper. Friends stood in the doorway, keeping a wary eye on him. “You’re all set,” she…
I am a collector of words. Big or small, round or flat, I hoard them all. I tuck them in books and pockets. I store them in notebooks and drawers. Occasionally, I jot them on my skin in hopes of never forgetting how they sounded when spoken, the way they danced and twirled across my tongue. Each word speaks to me, filling me with wonder while sparking my imagination. I close my eyes and glimpse them through the darkness. I…
Cake crumbs clung to George’s small pudgy hands, a splotch of vanilla icing mixed with sprinkles smeared across one cheek, mouth stained red from the fruit punch. The small goldenrod bowtie askew, socks and shoes long since abandoned. The white dress shirt sported every ounce of fun he’d enjoyed since the ceremony. His curly red hair mussed, glasses smudged with fingerprints tilted as he wrinkled his nose. George covered his eyes and giggled as the bride and groom kissed. He…
Harry always wore two different shoes to work. One brown, the other black. Some presumed he might be colorblind, or in a rush when he dressed each day. They were wrong. Sure, the first time it happened, it was a mistake, but no one told him, and now he wondered how long he could continue the charade before someone pointed it out. He’d reached day two-hundred-fifty-six, and not a peep. Now an unconscious ritual, Harry’s fiancé worried he’d show up…