I write about Jeanie just to keep her alive, her memory is a ghost in these pages. Though it hurts to remember, the pain is easier to bear than the emptiness. So I return again and again to the image of her face which at first was burned into my mind but now begins to fade – the lines once sharp and vivid are loose and blurred.
Continue reading “Her Ghost in These Pages by Daniel Joseph Day”
She wants to meet on Friday at a restaurant.
We have to talk.
About what I wonder.
Could it be that after all these years she has had enough?
Enough of buying groceries and cooking you delicious meals
Enough of walking in the park
Continue reading “A Final Thing by Adam Kluger “
The key to a good night’s sleep was a cold room and a lot of blankets.
It was 61 degrees inside and there were four on his bed at the moment, but none of them were in the right spots, yet.
Continue reading “Two is the loneliest number by Aaron Kaplan”
literally stories 