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Submitted to Contest #338
She didn't mean to open it again. The book was already in her hands, already headed for the slot, already returned in her mind. She'd even promised herself she'd stop borrowing things that made her feel too much, old songs, old stories, old words that tugged at something behind her ribs like a hook. But standing under the weak yellow light above the libraries after hours drop, she felt the weight of it shift. The cover creaked when she cracked it open, the way old bindings complain when you ask them for one more thing. She flipped to the ins...
Submitted to Contest #334
We learned long ago how to carry light without being seen. Before lanterns, before glass and wick, we learned it in our hands. We learned how to cup a flame, so it did not startle, how to walk uneven ground without drawing attention, how to move through the dark without being mistaken for danger. Even in life, we were careful. Careful women do not survive long here unless they learn when to be quiet. They called us many things. depending on the year and the need. Healers when children were sick. Witches when the sickness took them anyway. L...
Submitted to Contest #332
By the time that winter settled in for good, every sound in the house had grown thin. The floorboards didn't pop as much, the stove didn't hum the way it used to, and even our voices felt smaller-like the cold had taken a little piece from each of us. We lived in a leaning two-story frame house on stacked stones at the edge of the woods, eight miles from town and a lifetime from anything that looked like help. The garden was a memory buried under crusted snow. The last rows of canned beans lined the shelf like tombstones. Daddy's lunch pail ...
Submitted to Contest #331
The first snow always came in quietly down the holler. Not a storm, not a warning, just a soft drift that settles over the mountains like quilted blanket. Daddy had already rattled out of the holler for the mines, before sunrise, the sound of his truck fading in to the hush the snow brought with it. I slipped from bed and wiped a circle on the frosted window. Outside, the world glowed pale blue, snowflakes spinning slow and steady in the early light. Every first snow stirred the same feeling in me-a pull,a calling,a whisper in my bones. Like...
Submitted to Contest #329
I have walked the edges of humanity since long before there were names for shadows like me. Born not from darkness, but from the first unspoken wound, I emerged in the space where truth is swallowed and tears go unheard. I am older than memory, older than fear itself, older even than the instinct that tells a child to hide under the covers when the night becomes too quiet. Humans have called me many things through the centuries; Omen, nightmare, demon, watcher. They fear me only because I carry what they cannot. Every burden I take becomes a...
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