Bittersweet by Lorette C. Luzajic
It was never easy going back. The gloom was as thick as the damask drapery, and their enormous dusty tassels seemed symbolic somehow, ornamental bonds.
A Dance with the Devil by Lorette C. Luzajic
The start of the sound, Sunday salsa in the square. The ice xocoatl is my only relief from the oppressive blaze of the sun, but the locals don’t seem to notice or mind.
You can’t miss something if it comes back by Frankie McMillan
My sister said she was coming back as a bird, that way she’d be able to see what was happening from above, be able to see our house, me dawdling to school
Infinite Density by Joshua Michael Stewart
Paul couldn’t understand what was happening to him. Each day he woke up a little shorter. I must be shrinking, Paul thought.
Clearance by Jeff Young
She cleared out dead people’s houses, kept something from every house – a spoon or a postcard maybe, once a Bay City Rollers badge, another time a glass swan — binned the rest of the menagerie.