I’m positively bursting with information. I’m full to the brim with it. I feel like spilling over. I turn towards a stranger. I open my mouth, then close it. This is classified information. Or rather, information only I care about. The girl next to me doesn’t care. The boy doesn’t give a damn. People couldn’t … Continue reading Not So Classified
"Why can't you just take the two seconds to put the toilet seat down?" "Why do you care?" "I put it down every time. It's a sign of respect for me and my sanity." Later: A Post-It note on the--vertical--lid, reading, "I respect you, but I'm lazy."
Who was it that said the best lover is the man that can thrill you by kissing your forehead? Marilyn Monroe? His fingers caressed my palm, somewhere no one had cared to touch me, and I was thrilled, in the pit of my stomach, my heart squeezing with desire-induced pangs, my skin alive and itching to be … Continue reading Itching
The room was brightly lit, an effect created by the combination of the left hand side lamp— still on —and the sun beaming through the right hand side window, ruffled curtains thrown wide. On the left: large black socks strewn across the floor in the aisle beside the bed; on the nightstand, an open half-empty … Continue reading Marriage
A flash fiction piece published in The Elixir’s 2015-16 edition by guest writer Becca:
Empty House by Rebecca Jarrett
(1st place prose winner)
The house was empty, but the television in the sitting room was on, the glow from some commercial reflecting on the leather love-seat in the center of the room. The footrest was too far from the love-seat for anyone’s legs to possibly reach it while they were sitting there.
Boxes of baby clothes, diapers, and other such trinkets littered the hallway leading to the master bedroom. The door to the bedroom was wide open, a mark behind the door from the knob cracking into the wall. The bed itself was made up, the only objects on it the remote to the TV and a cracked open copy of
View original post 124 more words
Flipping channels reveals a dozen different crime shows. Happiness doesn’t make good TV- but I am never bored by the sweetness of my life.