Short Stories

Isabelle’s admissions portfolio is nearly ready. Brooke has the family narrative, the test scores, and the letters of recommendation. These came from Isabelle’s godmother, who runs a marketing firm, and from their pastor at First Presbyterian.

My parents always referred to Ireland as ‘home’. I took that to heart and thought we were home, not understanding this was just a holiday. And being home in Dublin, meant we also had to travel down to my mum’s hometown, Enniscorthy, and visit the relatives there.

If you were going about your normal day, how many owls would you need to see before you thought something was wrong?

They pulled up in their rented red convertible to 76 Achlys Cove. Morgan let out a gasp.

Cason had never been to the wall before. It was busier than he expected: hundreds of sweaty and starving men crammed together in front of a screen and speaker all jostling to get to the front as if that made it more likely that their number would get called.

It’s easy to love horror movies when you haven’t experienced one yourself. That’s it. That’s my opinion...

There were pieces of the walls scattered across the floor like confetti. The room smelled like bile and two scared animals. He had been watching August as he lay unconscious on the floor. August was far from well. He wouldn’t stop rolling his head across the concrete in the

Jerry lay in his bed, staring up at dusty white ceiling panels. The first light of morning shone through large rectangular windows, muted by yellowed curtains. He drew in a deep breath, tasting the mild odor of disinfectant in the air. “Another day in paradise.” He sighed. He’d never

The light danced shades of warm and cold on the walls as the lamp swayed slightly in a gust of wind from the open door. The room was cool, damp and anonymous. Hidden far underground. The walls monotonous.

There is a light out there. A red light in a house so far off the beaten path it's bruised with neglect. It should have been forgotten.