Short Stories

Last Words.

I hope you die. That was the last thing you said to me. And then I did. My heart just shriveled up and crumbled like ashes. But unlike the Phoenix or Jesus, it didn’t rise again. Instead, I was pronounced dead and buried a week later. I was buried in the beautiful blue prom dress… Continue reading Last Words.

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Short Stories

In a Storage Closet in Paris.

He couldn’t see her in the tiny storage closet, but he could smell her. She smelled like home. Not his home, which reeked of greasy pizza boxes and inside-out underwear, but home. She smelled of sweet pea body wash and the mint chocolate-chip gum she always kept a pack of in her purse. That was… Continue reading In a Storage Closet in Paris.