I am a Freelance Writer who enjoys fiction, short stories and poetry.
'You,' A Review of the Creepy and Cute
The story of the new Netflix series You starts off as a typical "boy meets girl" story. A girl enters a bookstore, a boy watches her from across the room. Notices the clothes she's wearing and presumes things about her, things that he would like in a partner. At first it may seem creepy but in this day and age who isn't a little creepy? The story goes on to show the main character Joe as charismatic, attractive and sweet. What becomes problematic to me as a viewer is learning more and more about Joe as the story progresses and little to nothing about his conquest and current target Beck. Beck seemingly gets her own episode where we learn a little more, but is it enough?
Don't Go Upstairs
It was a stormy Sunday night. The sky was dark and the house was quiet. Margaret felt scared but that was nothing new. Ever since her husband passed away everything felt scary. Around every corner was a possible danger. Margaret feared she might never leave the house again but then she thought, "Why would I leave? This house is safe, these four walls protect me from the outside, from the unknown and the dangers out there."
The Second Time Around
Leonard poured his coffee into the old, cracked mug his son had made him, slow and steady as the hot steam fogged his glasses. He could hear the pitter-patter of the rain against his kitchen window – slow and steady. He carefully lifted the warm mug to his dry, leather lips. Leonard was turning seventy in three days. Three days and he would be over the hill, or was it under the hill? He scratched his head and took another sip of coffee. Most days he loved to hear the sound of the rain bouncing off the windowpane, but not today. Today he felt angry and tired, more tired than usual. He gently lifted himself from the kitchen table and shuffled over to the phone. For a second, he thought about calling his son. Then, for another second longer, he thought about calling his doctor. He took a deep breath in and then out. He knew neither call would make him feel any better. But still he picked up the phone, listening to the dial tone hum and hum until he couldn’t take the humming anymore. He hung up the receiver and promised himself, out loud, that tomorrow he would call his son, Victor. Tomorrow they would talk just like old times and tomorrow, maybe, Victor wouldn’t hate him anymore.