Fiction

        The Fisherman and I walked on. My feet ached like they did when he found me. When he found me, I could no longer remember if I had run away or was chased out.

It’s late at night, she just needs to go for a walk. Living in Vermont means you could act crazy and everyone would just accept it. She’s walking along the dirt road, cool to her bare feet. Shoes ruin the experience.

When you’re gone I’ll think of every missed call

I’ll summon your sunny warmth and laughter

Without you, who will catch me if I fall?

Your stars always kept night lit long after

I was wandering away from my group I was delicately placed into.

the day he was new was the day i made a new friend.

he was my height, my age, and had pretty eyes. he was nice and sat next to me. his name was Pierce. like his piercing eyes, or piercing smile.

In the Klaxon Asylum, a relic of the old town’s forgotten days, Edgar had learned to accept his place among the dark.

For  a thousand years, Daniel Moon had waited. The room was small, its walls etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light.

He sits 6 feet behind the sideline, wondering how the sport in front of him works. The whistle was blown and he felt a sense of togetherness. Teammates were lined up across the bench sticking out on each end by at least 3 people.

When I rose my eyes burned. It wasn't a sudden pain; more slow and consistent. As if it knew why it was there and it had no intention of leaving. It knew my eyes were safe and that I couldn’t help it.

Inel’s mom grabbed their arm before they could open the door to the car. “Wait. Inel, are you sure you want to wear those pronoun pins?” Inels mom asked her. Two pins sat in the corner of Inels shirt.

-- PART ONE --

It's not safe, I said.

You told me it was safer than a Chevy Colorado.

It's too small, you said before.

When I reminded you of this, you brushed it off.