Birds stop trilling as the elephants near the sun-bleached bones. The savannah seems to silence itself for its gentle giants. With their trunks, they delicately lift the bones of their beloved matriarch. With their trunks, they trace the jaw and teeth of the mouth they used to greet. With their trunks, they soothe her …
Tears cloud Trista’s eyes. So many people sing “Happy Birthday” to her daughter for her 24th birthday. Gracie rests her head on her mom’s shoulder and Trista hears her as a five-year-old again. “The angels take me away on my 24th birthday.” Gracie still believes she’ll die. Has she told any of her singing friends? …
Flash Fiction #127 – Gracie’s Twenty-Fourth Birthday Read More »
The Okoro family knew they weren’t moving into the neighborhood to open arms. But they figured times had changed enough they’d be left in peace. Every morning they woke to trash littering their yard. As a family, they’d clean it up. Mrs. Okoro always hid her tears from her teen daughter and son. The father …
Aldous struggled with the door. Dead, shriveled rats littered the ground. Jenny cradled herself as she wept in the dark corner. “You’re right, rat blood won’t do.” “You had to try. I understand. I once did the same.” He lifted the once voluptuous beauty into his arms. “I won’t do it. I’d rather be…” Her …