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You'll lose points for unnecessary use of the word blase despite posing for the underground paparazzi.
I'd slide the switchblade he kept underneath his pillow for protection out once he began to drift off.
from 2013 - a magical short story
A tale of letting go of things not meant for us
"Disabled girl," he would probably call me if it were polite to notice someone's legs twitch uncontrollably.
Is that where I belong?
You can't give him what he needs. Neither can his cat.
Putrid garbage water sloshed around my ankles as I looked up and wondered just how I had landed here.
We are the world, We are the Children,
I had an overwhelming need to be alone as I wandered through the grass.
"I can't wait to see you in a few months. You're going to be a real New York bitch."
What kind of story would you like to write?
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