The great Mystique whooped and jumped from the open plane. Cold air stung his cheeks as he somersaulted and dipped through the air. He loved showing off for new students, making their first solo dives. The small group zipped towards him, and Mystique plunged through the circle they formed. Once clear, he deployed his parachute, but it failed to open. Free falling towards the earth, he yanked again. Nothing. The ground rushed closer, and a student spotting Mystique’s distress dove…
They gave me thirty-six hours to live. I’m adrift in a nightmare as they talk about grief counselors and hospice. No one prepares you for the fragility of life, nor the urgency of its inevitable end. Unfulfilled dreams consume my thoughts, each as insignificant as a deflated balloon. Because now, more than ever, all I want is to live. A nurse joins us in the exam room that already feels suffocating. She apologizes, and mutters something about mixed-up files and…
They laid on the old frayed quilt and stared at the blue-black sky blanketed with glittering stars. A muffled silence enveloped the night, the distant echo of waves crashing on the ocean a soothing melody. Along the fence, a possum, pouch bulging, paused briefly to stare at them. “Make a wish,” someone whispered. “Wishes aren’t real.” The night seemed to hold its breath, pregnant with anticipation and then, as if in response, a shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving…
She hides behind pseudonyms, effortlessly sliding into each one. In editor mode, she draws strength from Scarlet Market, who slashes words without mercy, perfecting each new story. Until Zoe Konfety waltzes through, leaving a wake of vibrant glittering confetti to celebrate every minute victory. Curled in a chair, buried under a quilt and lost in her novel, she becomes Hannah Dewey, book enthusiast. In moments of chaos misplaced amongst a sea of people, she’s Jane Smith, the forgotten wallflower. On…