Unbridled, righteous rage throbbed visibly in the bulging vein on Mr. Edison’s temple. One hand clenched the paper as he read it aloud. Continue reading
She looks at the stars and wonders.
She knows they’re planets or suns or galaxies, points of radiation and light in the endlessness of the universe. Boundless, inconceivable power, and still only specks of matter in infinity. Continue reading
She sang for her daughter when she didn’t want to sleep. Songs of beauty and strength and freedom, like her mother had done it and her grandmother before that. Continue reading
50 years. Her grandparents were married for half a fucking century, and now they spent their second honeymoon on a mediterranean cruise. The card was from Nice, oozing sunshine and happiness. Continue reading
The surface of the slag heap is glassy and adamant, matter from the bowels of the earth. After the trucks leave, it becomes quiet. Continue reading
She’s making friends. Already.
It’s been only a few weeks. So little time, so many changes. The people are strange, but at least they don’t shoot at us. Continue reading