a short story by T.C. Barrera
from the yet-to-find-a-home short story collection, “Counting Birds”
“You know how it is, Eli. Mickey says you gotta get to this one today. You’ve just gotta. This guy’s paying a big, and I mean, a BIG fuckin’ rush fee; that Mickey, of course, is charging for on top of the doubled fee that he was already going to charge. Mickey says, if he asks, it is due—”
Continue reading “Directions From Simi to Long Beach and All the Life In Between”
Frederic was learning how to live in the nothing. The world was tactile, it was the thudding of bare feet on hardwood floors and the sprinkle of misty rain on skin, and it was olfactory, chicken cooking on the stove, peonies, paint thinner. The sounds of his parents murmuring at night and his own name in the news on TV were muffled and far away. There was pain still in his eyes and head, pain that ebbed and flowed, but in his pain-free moments Frederic was the happiest he had been in years.
Continue reading “Hands, Eyes, Feet by Annabel Moir Smith”
literally stories 