Tag: aging

All Stories, General Fiction

The Call of the Bacchante by Matias Travieso-Diaz

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No retreat offers someone more quiet and relaxation than that into his own mind, especially if he can dip into thoughts there which put him at immediate and complete ease.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

She was foaming at the mouth. Her eyes dilated rolled.
Her mind was gone–possessed by Bacchus– she could not hear her son.

Euripides, The Bacchae

Marcus sat alone, cross-legged, in the quiet of his studio, having dimmed all lights. He sought to set his mind at rest by deeply inhaling and exhaling; as errant thoughts floated into his mind, he considered each one for a moment and dismissed it.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

James and Pruina by Mitchell Toews

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James put another piece of birch on the fire, the stove hinges creaking with hot dryness as he closed and latched the door. The papery bark crackled immediately to life, curling black and sending smoke and flame up the stovepipe. On days this cold, the single-paned glass in the old cottage windows looked triple thick owing to the rime coating the inner surfaces. He reached out to touch the slick, silvery skein, feeling his fingertips numbing and a rivulet of meltwater running down and then along the underside of his hand. The bottom panes were frost jacketed, those higher less so, the hot, rising air from the stove keeping them clear.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Shadow by T H White

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Tom Mitchell had lived alone for longer than he could remember. His wife, Lily, had passed away a decade ago, and their children had long since moved away, caught in lives of their own. The house, once filled with laughter and warmth, now echoed with a quiet, unrelenting stillness. Even the walls seemed to breathe differently, like they were holding their breath, waiting for something – or someone.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Tiny Dancers by P A Farrell

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In her nursing home bed, petite Margaret, just four feet tall, stared at the ceiling under the dim glow of fluorescent lights, her face devoid of the vibrancy it once held. Legs that had leapt across a sound stage lay thin and mottled with brown age spots. Feet that had slid into dainty slippers now stood as small, rigid reminders of long ago. 

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All Stories, General Fiction

Steroids and Cottage Cheese by Rachel Sievers

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Mr. Morton needed a new pair of shoes. That was quite obvious to Mrs. Morton but since he had started this health kick she couldn’t convince him of anything. She shot a glance at the runners out of the corner of her eye, afraid they would jump out and get her if she gave them her full attention. 

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All Stories, General Fiction

Confessions 1:07 by Kendra Yvette

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This is my confessional right here. Instead of an old wooden box full of stale air, I sit on a rickety old concrete porch at a rusty metal table with a stained-glass top. I always stay in room 107. The seashell wallpaper makes me want to die, and the air stings with the putrid stench of vomit, but this room has a perfect view of Main Street. This motel is the only part of this hick town that’s worth a damn. I fill my glass ashtray, stained yellow with wear, with cigarette butts as I spill my sins and people watch.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Helen’s Kitchen, 3:30 a.m. by Brian Clark

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Returning from the bathroom for the second time that night, her eyes heavy with sleep, Helen squinted down the dark hallway at the faint white glow coming from the kitchen.

Did I forget to turn off the light? she wondered.

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