After/Again by Kathryn Ordiway
When the war was over, we returned to what was left of our houses and pretended life was normal.
When the war was over, we returned to what was left of our houses and pretended life was normal.
She was just passing the phone box the first time it rang. Or that’s what she said afterwards.
Lesser evils gather and disperse, ephemeral as fine hairs on a barbershop floor. But the greater evils aren’t obvious until it’s too late. You think Looks like it might rain and then a SWAT team storms the house next door.
When I finally had the courage to say goodbye, I let my beloved doll know that our time together was coming to a tragic end.
You go diving with him in the Bahamas as a leap of faith, even though you’re not sure whether it’s a leap of faith in yourself or in him or in your togetherness.