The discount bookstore was Annabelle’s favorite place to spend a weekend afternoon. The shop was perfect for such a hardcore bibliophile. The store had been her weekend haunt for a couple of years, and there weren’t many customers on this Saturday. As she browsed the shelves, she selected a couple…

Emblazoned on the marquee: ONE NIGHT ONLY ZACH AND ERYN SAY I DO They had met at a production of The Wizard of Oz. She had looked so cute in her gingham. He was handsome in his overalls with straw dangling in his face. They met after rehearsals to run…

Sofia stood in the local Goodwill looking at a scuffed pair of Mary Janes. She dreamed of the day she would wear nice heels and a wedding dress. In her daydream, she wed Vincent. Vincent flipped burgers while she waited tables. They were just friends. Not even friends, just acquaintances…

Flowers grow with the piano’s plink. Planets swirl like the tuba. #NaPoWriMo

The little, red tricycle sat alone in the backyard. Rust had just begun to speckle its paint. The tricycle had belonged to three-year-old Billy, and he had been so excited when he received it. On Christmas five years ago, Billy had seen the trike sitting beside the tree. It was…

Delaney’s sweet face appeared in the window. Her specs magnified the tears pooling in her eyes. Marilyn wheeled over to the window to see if she could find out what was causing Delaney’s distress. “I miss you, Nonny! I want one of your big bear hugs, but I’m not allowed…

It’s just a stepladder, three little steps. I climbed ladders far higher than that when I worked in construction. Francine is such a worrywart. She told me not to climb that little ladder. “For crying out loud, Greg, you’re not thirty anymore. You’re not even forty. …

Check your cell. Read, “I want a divorce.” Shake your head. Reply, “That is not funny.” Read, “It’s not meant to be funny. How did you not know?” Wipe tears. Reply, “Why didn’t you talk to me at home?” Read, “Because I’m a coward.” Sob. Call lawyer amid tears but with resolute jaw.

A flash piece from a painting The white walls are as blank as my soul, as empty as my life. I've been in this hospital/prison for six days, and they are continuing to ask my name. My mind answers Josephine. I cannot force my lips to divulge the information. They call me Marte. It really doesn’t matter to me. What matters most is that they stopped my blood and bandaged my wrists. I was so close to the blessed relief. I could feel the finality of death on the horizon. I craved that release, but it was denied.