788
I watched our apartment burn, praying I’d shut off the stove.
Andrew Dolbeare (@adolbeare) writes lies.
787
The broken body of a yellow bird. I found it outside my house. “I will make marshmallows in your image,” I whispered.
Marcus Haugen has been described as “pretty laid back.”
786
The fact that generosity annoyed her only made it worse. But, there were monsters to feed and that was the long and the short of it.
Daragh Beirne makes little creatures do stuff.
785
GRADES ARE UP. I check mine and return to the classroom chat. Teary-eyed emojis adorn the message. I click the thumbs-up and feel like shit.
M. So (@MarlaArielleSo) writes fiction (Twitter-sized or otherwise) for $5+ apiece at fiverr.com/sothefreelancer
784
He dithered at the church door as his mother lay in the hospital, wondering which would be the bigger sin, lying to her or to himself.
Nidhi Arora prefers, by far, to inhabit the world of fiction.
783
The night after Dad’s funeral, I watched Mom stare at a bottle, saw my sister googling lingerie, and went out and buried my toys.
N. Muma Alain is a poet and fabulist from the British Southern Cameroons. He publishes horror/suspense twitter fiction @nmamuma.
782
I’m not sure why I’m still romanticizing something that has crushed my ability to be present in relationships.
Isis Orchard is a high school senior.
781
My son’s happy he gets the red one but balloon guy looks too sad. Like he used to have a home circus but this freelance life is killing him.
Merry Mercurial is a virtual rock groupie and blue-collar book nerd.
780
She put out her cigarette in his birthday cake so that he could be spared the trouble of broken dreams.
Helen Kirkby is a part-time artist and full-time writer living in LA. She is an avid believer in happy lives, not happy endings.