• Short Stories

    On Edge

    I just got off work at the grocery store nearby. It’s a boring job, but I guess it pays decently. Enough to at least make rent. Today I decided to walk to a lighthouse before I went to my apartment. It’s an okay apartment, I guess. There’s nothing special about it, but it’s a place to live for the time being. Someday I hope to get out of there, but that day is a long way from now. Might as well visit this lighthouse as I have nothing better to do. The few friends I do have are all busy tonight. That’s fine, I can enjoy some free time to…

  • Short Stories

    Fallout

    “Is everything ready, Luca?” my grandmother said to me. I was just finishing the last bit of packing that I needed to do. I had a red backpack with everything I wanted to bring with me. “Yes nana, everything is ready,” I said to her. I grabbed my backpack and walked down the hallway of my house. My grandmother stood in the living room with the two suitcases that carried our clothes and shoes. “The evacuation shuttle is here,” my grandmother said. “Grab your bag and let’s go.” We grabbed our suitcases and exited the house. A U.S. Department of Homeland Security seal was on the side of the bus.…

  • Short Stories

    Swinging on the Town Tree

    “He did it, I just know it,” someone in the crowd said. “He is most definitely guilty, no questions about it,” another person said. “How could he do something like that to someone like her.” “He dares claim that nothing ever happened.” “He lies!” These were the sounds of the worn, old cabin on the left side of the Town Tree. They stood on the opposite side of another worn, old cabin that rests on the right. If one didn’t live there, one would have thought the cabins were one in the same, which they essentially were. They both had similar creaky boards on the sides and roofs, they both…

  • Short Stories

    Dreamers

    My friend died last year at around this time. He was my best friend in the whole wide world, and we would always do everything together. We would go biking, skateboarding, play video games and swim together. We would hang out often because my parents were busy and never had time for me. Then he got run over by his own dad in a car “accident.” I hated his dad. His dad would always send me home early and always smelled remotely similar to the rubbing alcohol in my bathroom at my house. Sometimes, my friend would show up to school with bruises on his face, but when I asked…