My mother broke every plate in the house that day. She had destroyed the plastic plates first, each artificial disk severed before meeting the kitchen floor. She had taken the paper plates too, ripping them with her delicate hands until they had reached the floor, a despondent end to the lively meals that they had...
“This feels like the beginning of a teen movie.” “Huh?” “I said, ‘This feels like the beginning of a teen movie.’”
I am not guaranteed a lifetime, only time. I move through the world and space unwillingly. If you wish to see the planet as I have, or as I do, you are foolish.
Trigger Warnings: attempted suicide, abusive family reference
The tyrannical heat of the summer wafted through Eden’s windows and seeped into her bed sheets. She felt the adherence of the silk on her legs and little trails of sweat raced across her neck, mingling the aromatic smell of her hair with a salty sharpness.
There was a slight wind on the dock. It ripped at the lake water and tousled the tall grass surrounding the beach in small waves. Each stem flickered back and forth, like an uneasy light that had been exercised for many years.
[Trigger warning for suicide and suicidal ideation, attempted murder, gendered slurs, mention of drowning, and child abuse.] I dreamed I made a goal. When I wake up they tell me it wasn’t a dream. And it wasn’t a goal, either. It was a touchdown—that’s why you’re in the hospital.
It was a Wednesday night when clouds began to gather, thin and brittle as cheap glass. The town was used to strangers rolling through, dust weeds pushed along by the wind. The Roadhouse sheltered many, offering them whiskey and chili fries and a roof over their heads, but just for one night. It hadn’t...