Honey Bristol, of Centralia, was born in 2026 and had been doing support to technology work since the age of 6. She sat back in her cubicle’s sleep chair and tried her best to drift off. Earlier in her life she’d used relaxation aids but those had been denied her, due to a lack of “earnest intentions” when she fell asleep while working online for Intelligent Digestive Biotics. She’d not yet figured out how to make herself sleep without assistance.
It had already been twenty or so years since she’d had more than three or four hours of rest in…
The heat and humidity remain unchanged in South Texas for at least four months, starting in late May. Cicadas seem to bring the high temperatures with them, grinding out their metallic song and filling the air with notes of oppression.
“Try to escape this,” they seem to say.
Frannie and Clayton made the best of things during the summer of 1964. They lived across the street from each other and their mothers agreed that kids needed to play outside. …
The thing is, I don’t look so good.
Sure, in person you probably wouldn’t notice all the things I find wrong with my face in a photo. I always chalked it up to “I am not photogenic.”
Other than checking myself out in a mirror on a daily basis to make sure I don’t have bed hair or ballpoint pen ink on my cheek I figure I’m good to go. I’m not vain and I have good self esteem. …
Annette’s best wedding gift was the one item she opened the morning of her rehearsal dinner and put to the side without even thinking about it. Her Grand-mère shook her head, her smile suddenly changed to frown position and her brow lined with disapproval..
“Non, non Annette. Cherie, you kiddin’. Dat da best giff you got yet. You go now, put dat rice cooker on the livin’ room table with all dem pretty things you and Chervoi done got. I’ll take it if you don’t wan’ it. I’ll keep it as a spare case mine breaks.”
“Mere, it’s not that…
She was alone in the yard.
The yard was fenced and behind the fence were thick Ligustrum and Camellias lining the neighbor’s property. The neighbors were old and the only time anyone was ever in their backyard was when the lawn was being mowed.
Twice a month she watched the hired gardeners, an old man and his much younger son, maybe his grandson, through the chain link where two of the Ligustrum parted ways. Maybe the gardeners had clipped both bushes too much for the space to grow back in a single year of seasons.
She watched while the hired…
I must have done something good.
My daughter is 36. I had her when I was 28. Her father and I had already been married for seven years and our families were wondering why we were taking so long to produce a child.
I never thought I would have a kid. This will sound really incredibly stupid but, although I’m an atheist, to please my devoutly Catholic mother I got married in “The Church” and not only subjected my husband to pre-Cana classes, I agreed to raise any offspring in the church. I sat and promised my mother’s favorite priest…
The story of a very special pair of jeans.
When I was sixteen
I had blue jeans
With plenty of magic
To fend off panic.
If I was broke and needy
The pants gave to me, freely.
I’d reach inside the back patch pocket
and out came cash like my pocket was a wallet.
I had independence,
But I needed some assistance.
I trusted in my pants
as they delivered green like grants.
Twenty bucks could solve a problem;
Keep me from being destitute and glum,
Raise my status with every friend.
Leftovers — I could offer to lend.
Just as I was to start my junior year of high school my father accepted a job transfer and my family moved from Connecticut to New Orleans, Louisiana. I was experienced with being the new girl as this was my eighth new school since kindergarten.
One of my coping mechanisms when attending a new school was to give myself a few weeks to acclimate and then I would settle into whatever group of kids I fit in with. After a short period of time allowing myself to get the lay of the land at my new school, I started to…
Trigger warning: This story contains a description of an imagined sexual assault.
Fletcher Carlson reviewed the landscape in front of him before making his move. The sidewalk pavement was slick and shiny from a mid-morning downpour, like someone poured clear liquid resin on its surface and it cured hard and impenetrable. Bottle caps, bits of twigs and gravel and a few cracked plastic straws were imbedded in the parking lot asphalt, probably from some hot day when the tar softened.
Fletcher was wearing athletic shoes. He’d obscured the tread with duct tape and spray sealant, the kind they sold on…
Of all the things that can go wrong when planning a wedding, what happened in Key West last year, when we were all still trying to figure out the pandemic, almost had me rethinking my career choice.
Junie Anson, my second-weekend-in-June bride, was marrying one of Hattiesburg, Mississippi’s most prominent real estate developers. The Anson/Clooney was a destination wedding and the theme was “ Magic on the Beach”.
Junie wanted Mason Jars for everything: lighting, place markers, table centerpieces and the favors. Since the ceremony was being held on the beach, she wanted the smallest size Mason Jars for the…
Shit Creek survivor. Storyteller. Feminist liberal. Southern without the accent. Chihuahuaist.