Stories (19/0)
Every Way But Words
As they lay together on the beach, as the day’s embers cooled, she took his face in her hand. She couldn’t help herself. He smiled, wrinkling his nose without opening his eyes. Dried grains of sand tumbled off his cheek as he said, “Do you love me or something?”
By Addison Alderabout a year ago in Fiction
Aquafaba
Aquafaba. So innocuous sounding, almost elegant. But the word felt like a knife running up his spine. It was the way she said it to him, like there was an implicit ‘obviously’ afterwards. Like he didn’t deserve to be in the kitchen if he didn’t know what aquafaba was.
By Addison Alderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Truffle Cobs
Cesar wielded the knife deftly. Thirty years in kitchens had made him fast and precise. The blade purred through each tomato, the keen edge brushing his calloused fingertips. There were still 20 pounds to dice and the wall clock showed 7 am. He’d been on his feet five hours already.
By Addison Alderabout a year ago in Horror