Tag: Ayesha Cantey
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Something at the beach.
Something at the beach. by Madeleine Medeiros There I lay in my new pink bikini, towel draped over every arch and indentation of my face to shield from the unforgiving sun, my mother sitting a few feet away. Even though I had covered my face and turned my head, I could still hear them laughing—the…
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“Dancing in the Rain” by Kathryn Haig “It looks like rain. We need a good rain,” my husband says, a chipped mug quivering in his arthritic hands as he pours hot coffee into the cold ceramic. I look down at my own fingers, twisted and warped like country roads, my joints swollen roundabouts over which…
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“Mechromancy”
by Michael C. Denysenko Ethereal magical gears interlocked and circled around the dwarven mechanic’s hands as he cast a spell. Stone, wood, and metal components levitated and fit themselves into place. The project was a gigantic humanoid figure, whose head stood taller than the king’s castle. “Ah, you two,” the dwarven mechanic began, “I was…
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“The Strength of Your Hoodie” – Kacey Veiking
The hoodie that I gave as a gift Once gave comfort to me in your embrace, But now I wear that same hoodie And feel a shiver of that cold hospital room You stood so tall protecting me From the monsters that lurk below Now all I have is your memory And that contagious laugh…
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“Heart Attack” – Liliana Sosnowski
My heart drummed against my rib cage as my hands trembled with the scalpel in my grasp. I try to catch my breath and steady my heart rate as I grip the scalpel harder. The once cold metal now becoming warm from the heat emanating from my palms as they turn clammy. My attending physician,…
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“Serenity’s Surrender to Self-Care” – Kristen Giebler
Serenity’s cottage sat at the edge of the world, an ivory relic of a time long forgotten, nestled along the North Carolina shore. The house seemed to inhale and exhale with the wind, its wooden bones creaking in tune with the murmur of the sea. The late afternoon light, soft and dying, spilled across the…
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“The Fire of the End”- Kacey Veiking
A euphoric sense of self came from losing you. I stand in the room, facing you. We both came here willingly, but what came next will never be recounted in the same light by either of us. How I see it? You painted these walls with kerosene. The clear liquid dripped on all four walls…
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“The Space I Left for Them” – Kristen Giebler
I have spent my life making room. I have shrunk to the corners and folded myself into neat, forgettable shapes so that others could expand. I’ve swallowed my voice like bitter medicine, convinced that silence was a virtue, that bending until I break was some kind of holy act. I have built palaces out of…
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“The Couch Cushion Test” – Kristen Giebler
She always sat on the left side of the couch. The bad cushion. The one with the broken spring that jabbed into her ribs, the one where the cold draft slithered in through the window, the one where the light from the lamp didn’t quite reach. It wasn’t a conscious decision—just something she did. In…
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“Writing About Writing” – Michael C. Denysenko
If I had to do only one thing for the rest of my life, I would write. I had initially fallen backwards into it, dreaming up my own stories to tell that I had planned to tell visually, but soon found that the best way of sharing them was writing them all down. Now that…
