Tag: RJ Railton-Jones
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Red light Green light – Dorrian Stangel
“You left me!” I shouted at Grace as I caught up to her at the end of the street. The moon had just emerged from the clouds, intertwining with the green light to illuminate the sidewalk. Grace glanced at me smiling, the light reflecting off her nose piercing and glasses as her blue faded strand…
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The Girl with No Name – Jillian Reis
The girl walked among the clouds. They moved and shifted underneath her, becoming solid under her feet. She looked over the edge at the world below, the view over her hometown greeting her. She couldn’t see but she knew it was her fifth birthday. Banners draped around the house with celebratory wishes for a little…
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A Man OUT OF Time – Paul Keegan
October 8th, 1966. Seven o’clock in the evening. Donald Richmond stared out of the window of his penthouse apartment. He was watching the streets below, his eyes darting from person to person. He liked to observe, and the noises from the bustling city underneath him served as a relaxing white noise. Like the comfort of…
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Late Bloomer – Kailey Blount
From her bedroom door frame, Marjorie stared at Lucille. She’d covered her head with the quilt again. Brown ringlets, matching her own, strung out against the pillowcase. Shades drawn lights out, it could have been day or night. Though, Marjorie knew, among other things, that it was the day. Eleven o’clock to be exact. “Lucille.”…
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13731 – Kelsey Donnelly
The smell hits you before you’ve crossed any real borders. In the spring and summer, it is impossible to ignore the sweet breeze carried off the freshly plowed, mowed, and rolled fields that drift into your car vents. You can’t help but shut your eyes and float for a moment, letting the heady mix of…
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Summer’s End – Kelsey Donnelly
Thirteen-year-old me is not going to look up from her book when you speak to her. She’s not going to do more than glance to the side of you, a finger pressed to her page and her eyes straying back to the paragraph at hand. If you address her directly, she’ll finish the sentence, press…
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The Throat of The Storm – Emily Callahan
Three years had swept by and with every passing, I found myself slowly withering away, morphing into some wobbly, crooked, configuration. I had become friends with the suffocating compression and its cyclical nature. I listened for the wind of its storm, waiting for it to cue my usual regiment; canceling plans, recycling the same excused…
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Strawberry Colored Glasses – Hailey Pinto
If a liquid stream of strawberry decadence spewed from the nozzle of an aluminum keg, my dad would be mouth open under the spout. There’s no flavor in this world that could satisfy his lust for “something sweet” as much as sips of confectioned berries do. Brown paper bagged secrets, embellished coughs to cover sneaky…
