The Night Watchman’s Wife
Every morning, she watches him clean his kerosene lantern. How tenderly he replaces the wick, how he cleans the glass with undivided attention. When he’s asleep, she breaks the wretched… Read more »
Tag: microfiction
Bailey’s Birthday
I slumped on the couch after putting Bailey to bed. A few minutes later, I heard her laughing. She was sitting up, staring at the wall. “You okay, baby?” I asked…. Read more »
Holding On
She takes hot showers despite the humidity. On the fogged mirror, her finger writes messages to him. When she opens the window, the vapor mingles with the air outside, like… Read more »
Rekindle
In my tiny, oven-like kitchen, I persist. I throw in a handful of red chilies and garam masala into the smoking oil. The tempering screams, promising to ignite something within. Still,… Read more »
Should I Stop or Should I Go?
It was a dark and stormy night, sheets of rain angrily lashed on to Harold’s car which was hurtling down the deserted I-680; when his heart jumped at the shocking… Read more »
The Savant
“Seven minutes, Mommy’s dying.” Jason repeated. Trisha shut the burner. “Honey, relax! You’ve named the Presidents thrice.” Jason pulled in a hose and sprayed her. In another universe, Trisha was… Read more »
The Night Watchman
Last night, she claimed another victim. He jumped off the roof, like she had ten years back. I took up this job to stay close to her. But the… Read more »
Jerk Seasoning
Ginger and nutmeg rasped rhythmically against the grater. Sweet cinnamon soothed the fiery allspice. Thyme and lime for that tang you liked.
Zeitgeist
“For the spring collection,” Kat’s voice made the meeting room stifle. “I want the zeitgeist of 1940s Europe.” Neil doodled on his sketchpad. So War? Death? Poverty?
United Forever
This story was inspired (loosely) by a monument dedicated to the Moorish poet Ibn Zaydun and his lady love, Princess Vallada, in Cordoba, Spain