Fiction
On any given night, you could stand on the tallest building, at the highest point in the city, and know exactly what each individual person was doing. It wasn’t a large place, or really that tall of a building, but when you stood at the window looking down, you felt like the king of the world.
We used to live in one of those places where you could see the entire world—full floor to ceiling windows, nothing between us and the abyss. Hanna used to throw these elaborate parties with blue wine and orange grapes, where the music was a bit too loud and hands explored a bit too freely.
I found her memory where she left it, crumpled by the foot of the bed, dust bunnies collecting in the grooves she’d made on the paper after squeezing it in her fist. I didn’t think this was how I’d learn about her.
Memories Made
My mother always told me not to trust them. “Look at them,” she’d say, “the way they monopolize these underground stores and still choose to sit on the sidewalk. Did you ever stop to wonder why it is that they always find themselves sitting around rickety metal tables, chewing gum and looking at their phones?”
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Three hundred and sixty five: the number of times the faucet has dripped since I chose this spot on the couch as the best spot to sit and wait for you. Drip. Drip. Drip. Three hundred and sixty eight.
The incessant flapping of wings outside her window woke her up. Anna was glad it was spring, and the baby birds were learning to fly, but it was going to be an important day and she just wanted to go back to sleep.
Thank you all for being here today. My father would have greatly appreciated all the people who showed up to pay their respects.”
It was the last of its kind in the small town on the border.
Mahogany.
She fumbled with the paper; it was a cold night and she could barely feel her fingers. Armin wasn't paying attention to her efforts, instead he was staring out at the night. They were sitting on a picnic table on the roof of her building.
Stopgap
He had lied about everything in his questionnaire. They asked him if he could see, he said he had 20/20 vision. They asked him if he could shoot, he said he had been going hunting with his father since he was a little boy.
“Damn it, I'm late I'm late..." She muttered to herself as she jumped in the shower. She went through the motions mechanically, washing her hair, putting on her make-up, getting dressed.
She couldn’t believe the mess. More than anything, she couldn’t believe she hadn't noticed the mess until she had gotten out of the shower and dressed. As she dried her hair with a towel, she looked around the room.
I press my nose up to the glass and watch as my breath makes a little cloud that quickly disappears. Mom says I can’t go out to play today because I’ve been a bad boy.