Easy Way Out

“Dear E, it’s not you,…” Save draft. Hate yourself. Hit backspace. Stare at blank screen. Delete draft. Chew dinner, smile at her jokes, scream inside, swallow words. Kiss her forehead…. Read more »

Space Mountain

Tiny droplets of vapor collected inside the oxygen mask every time he exhaled. A thin layer of crust had formed on his eyelashes, like cobwebs in an abandoned house. Clear fluid dripped from an IV line in slow, almost hypnotic droplets. The room was quiet except for the staccato beeping of the heart monitor and the whooshing, Darth Vader-ish noise of the ventilator.