Category: Prose
-
The Rising Tides
The tides here swell and spill into the roads, more often now. Houses cling to shore. Most pretend that this is normal because to say goodbye is too hard. But I say goodbye every day as I walk and drive past the waters that I love. I study the topographic maps. “This Portland neighborhood will…
-
In his clutches
“Ba ha ha ha” His evil laugh echoed through the house. “I have you now.” I curl smaller in the dark space. He storms from room to room. I breathe quietly. The door to the bedroom opens. He stomps around the room and I wonder if he knows I’m here. I see the light of…