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#229: Drunk
She held the bottle up to the light, determining how much was left by sight rather than weight. A glass, maybe a glass and a half, remained in the bottle. The rest was metabolizing in her body. She closed her eyes for a moment to see if she felt dizzy when she opened them again ( Read more... ) -
Mad
She was furious. Beyond spitting mad to down right shaking and turning red. If there had been any point, she'd have reached through plaster walls, pulling out the lathing and supports, or knocked over every book in the library, as if any of them would have given her an answer. Since none of it mattered, not a touch of her anger showed ( Read more... ) -
Didn't do it. Again.
"I swear I didn't put those on your desk. Why would I do such a thing ( Read more... ) -
Sofa Dreams
All the furniture was scaled to his body. Solid kitchen chairs, latte sized mugs, a wide recliner and the couch plenty long enough for him to sprawl on. She liked to imagine him on his couch. Sometimes she saw him sitting hunched over with files and evidence photos spread across the coffee table. Sometimes he sat to one side while he ate, his ( Read more... ) -
TANJ
Fifteen year old Nicole Wallace sat on the front porch of her father's house and prayed that someone would see what went on in that house. Her mother closed her eyes to it, allowing her only daughter to become the true wife in the household. The answer to her prayers was Bernard Freemont ( Read more... ) -
Lies
In their own ways, both of her parents told her the same lie. "It's all your fault ( Read more... ) -
Ring around the sorrow
Twice she'd stood before a man with the power to legally join her to another ( Read more... ) -
Impossible
It was too late for her. Too many crimes, too much death, too much violence against her, for her to ever be whole. No love could save her. Not a lover's touch or a child's faith could make her a good person. She was broken, failed, without hope for salvation. She should simply admit her worthlessness and hand herself over to the State for ( Read more... ) -
#215 Seduction
First was Bernard, of course. He was so beautiful then. Elegant and educated, nothing like the men I grew up around. It took me a long time to get over thinking there was anything wrong with those station hands. Most of them didn't have a mean bone in their bodies ( Read more... ) -
#212 Fly on the Wall
I am the fly on the wall. I'm the watcher in the eaves. I'm the anonymous stranger who understands you better than your best friend. I'm the pretty girl who talks to you when you are feeling down. I'm the one who shows you what it really means to be a man. Or a woman ( Read more... )