Calvin Marty
Bio
Writer, musician, actor, podcaster, audio engineer. I'm an artist who refuses to settle for one medium or form. I live in Chicago, practice meditation and piano, and believe in the power of dreams. NIghtmares included.
Stories (3/0)
A Breath of Fresh Air
I stepped onto the elevator and watched the doors close slowly, aware of time as a thing with weight. The doors closed with a thud and the elevator jolted dully into invisible motion, my body falling and rising at once. Guilt washed over me: I had left her alone again. I wondered what it felt like to her when I went away—if it felt like anything at all. I almost hit the “open door” button in a panic but stopped myself. Opening the elevator door in mid-descent wouldn’t help. I imagined the elevator slamming to a halt, the doors cracking apart, leaping out at whatever-floor and running to the stairs to heave myself back up to the room. That wouldn’t happen, though. Nothing would happen. I decided to decide—when I got to the ground—whether to immediately go back up or not.
By Calvin Marty3 years ago in Fiction
Rachel
Night, late: A good, black darkness. The moon is hiding, so I slip past the night patrol more easily this time. I duck behind the East line of empty cages, images flashing: the young ones that fought back and paid for it, the old ones that wore out quickly.
By Calvin Marty3 years ago in Fiction
I Am Jennifer Jackson
I wake up. Before I am able to open my eyes, I can hear the sounds of running water and dishes clinking. They drift from another room, riding invisible blue waves of jazz on a radio: piano chords, a sultry saxophone solo. Somebody’s singing, but I can’t tell if it’s in the song or the voice of someone close by.
By Calvin Marty3 years ago in Futurism
