creative writing
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He hated wearing the tux, which hugged him in all the wrong places. He hated her being the star of the evening. He hated her picture on Page Six of The Post, even though his press agent had planted it. He hated the stupid show and certainly wasn’t thrilled watching other men look at what…
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A trail of bright red drips extends down the hallway; remnants from last night’s little accident. The woman I live with let herself go a little too long between feedings in an attempt to lose weight and got so hungry she ended up draining one of her human friends. She said he was trying to…
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Find us on Venice Beach, on Santa Monica, on Hermosa. We’ve smiled at you on Manhattan Beach, our pearly whites gleaming. We’ve let you kiss our red lipstick lips, and then we drew our fangs and plunged.
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The name of the town is not important. It is another small town in another state that no one knows about but yet can be found on any state map. It could be your current location, a place you have lived in for six months and yet it could be your childhood home.
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With evening fast approaching, I combed everywhere for signs of a cave. Or just the sight of a man. What I’d do with him would be marvellous. God knows. So that was it. I continued until I came to a brook. And there sat a man. His hairs and eyebrows were gray, even though he…
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I opened my mouth to counter that statement, but had no argument. What did I do with my life? I wasn’t invested in my job. I played games, watched videos, scrolled social media. My outside activities involved others prying me out of the house to participate—otherwise, I wouldn’t have made the effort. I had no…
