Saiel takes me out after the first snowfall, when the stars have opened themselves up very brightly. He squeezes my hand in his and smiles. It’s a quiet night and I am happy to be here with him, in the backyard of the house we bought together.

“It’ll be better this year,” he tells me, and I lean my head against his shoulder. I know, I tell him. ( Read more... )

In Monica’s first memory, her mother is hanging the stars.

They’re only glow in the dark stickers, greenish-yellow on her deep blue walls, but the way she remembers it, they’re on fire. They’re shaking, bright and beautiful and her mother is pasting them into the sky.

Her mother has gnarled fingers. Her hair is a fuzzy mess. She always smells like ( Read more... )

For the prompt: apply your favorite TV Trope here.

By the time it's found, the body has begun to rot. The skin is blackened and pitted, the stomach bloated. Its eyes crawl white.
( Read more... )