The white bear’s favorite color is green. I know this because the first thing it does every evening before dinner is thrust its warm, wet nose through the doors of the bureau and take my mother’s dress, my mother’s lucky green dress, in its teeth. Some nights, seams scream and tear, fabric fluttering from the…
The central hub definitely had a gorgeous view. The transparent dome offered a clear view of the Earth below: all the swirling and blending in the clouds, the pigments and textures in the terrain, the gentle blue in the seas. Here, Frieda could simply hang in the air and draw on her tablet with a…
It’s near dusk as I round the corner, heading away from the town’s paved streets. Mom told me not to go, but she knew I’d go anyway. Like mother, like daughter. I make a left turn, then a right. Bright Freesia blossoms line the alley-ways between the houses and cottages, shifting in the gentle breeze,…
“I want it gone.” The woman says as she lays down on the table. She has a split lip and a big, blue bruise marring half her face. “I don’t care what you have to do. I want it gone.” Ada pauses. “Do you need help?” she asks, “I know some—” “I don’t need help.”…
