Mrs. Henderson’s face was a mask of practiced calm, but her eyes, magnified by her reading glasses, were darting around the empty hallway…
I didn’t cry again after that night. Shock does something strange to grief. It doesn’t numb it; it freezes it. It traps the…
It shouldn’t have landed the way it did. Omission has become a familiar room—I know where the chair goes, where the light switch…
The jazz ensemble faltered, a lone trumpet note hanging in the air like a question, before dissolving into a silence so profound it…
Their heads snapped toward me, two perfect, identical motions. Their eyes—fogged, empty glass a second ago—were now wide, sharp, and full of pure,…
They were small, white, and scored. A cold, chemical dread washed over me, so total and so numbing that the sound in the…
The first time Emma came back from her grandparents’ house crying, I brushed it off. “Mommy, my tummy hurts,” she’d whimpered, burying her…
His voice was like gravel, a sound that shouldn’t exist. “Who… are you?” Time stopped. The rain, the thunder, the pounding in my…
The ballroom didn’t just glitter. It devoured light. Thousands of champagne flutes stood like a glass army, waiting. The chandeliers dripped crystals, and…
The rain was a shroud, turning the bright morning light of the Maple & Steam Café into a watery, gray gloom. It matched…