Leah Gabriel
Bio
Stories (10/0)
ghost stars
I recognized the sound of the train from the dream I'd been having. In the dream, I was with John and we were happy. John and I, happy together, on a train? That's how I knew it was a dream. I still had my eyes closed and I winced as my head bounced against the window where I'd rested it as I slept.
By Leah Gabriel2 years ago in Fiction
pasta salad
There are few things in life as dependable as a pasta salad. The simplicity in preparation alone is enough to recommend it. One bowl, one cutting board, and one good knife and you're in business! So forgiving in its demands that even the most naive and inexperienced of home cooks can arrive at the church picnic with no fear of overhearing unfortunate whispered gossip about their potluck contribution. Conversely, the endless possibilities in ingredients allow for inspired creativity when prepared by an, ahem...seasoned chef.
By Leah Gabriel2 years ago in Feast
north fork
In the summer of 1988, I was twelve years old. That's the summer our cabin burned down. The Red Bench Fire was a monster of a wildfire that ate its way through northwest Montana, including a portion of Glacier National Park. At the time, this was an anomaly. The terrifying and widespread conflagrations that have been attributed to climate change were not yet a thing of the news.
By Leah Gabriel2 years ago in Families
delusion
Hey, Mom - Do you remember when you came to visit us in San Diego over Thanksgiving 2019? It was late afternoon and you and I were just leaving the local organic co-op with a load of groceries. As I pulled my car out of the parking spot, I put on my prescription sunglasses. I'm pretty sure I made a comment that really didn't need to be made, something conversational and boring, like, "If ever there were a place where prescription sunglasses come in handy, it's San Diego!"
By Leah Gabriel2 years ago in Confessions
Golden Years
The phone was ringing for the second time in five minutes. It broke through the quiet morning and startled the cat, who jumped down from the windowsill where she had been enjoying the early sunlight. The unwelcome calls set my teeth on edge. I was grateful when the ringing stopped but wondered, briefly, why anyone would call me at seven a.m. The spam calls didn't usually start until midday and at my age, I didn't have many friends who were still around to call.
By Leah Gabriel3 years ago in Fiction
happenstance
“So he rocks on up in this antediluvian hoopty but with swag, you know? So fuckin’ cool that he could have been riding his little sister’s bike and I still would have gone with him.” The girl paused and stared out of the diner window while she bit at the edge of her first finger. She did not look like the kind of girl who knew how to use the word ‘antediluvian’ in a sentence. The F-bomb fit, though, to a tee.
By Leah Gabriel3 years ago in Fiction