Miranda Mariana Maloy
Miranda is an avid bookworm and free-time author who packs her days full of counseling work as an intern therapist, government work as a Parks & Recreation manager, and full time motherhood. She also recently married the love of her life.
The Damned Sky
The woman woke up to the feeling of soft, cold snow falling on her cheek. As she opened her eyes, the world around her blazed and burned a brilliant titanium white. Faint memories danced through her mind, pirouetting like the snowflakes around her as they fell out of her consciousness, melting away. She remembered a warm hand on her face, a gentle kick in her stomach, laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She recalled the stars at night, a voice whispering lovingly in her ear, the smell of champagne on their breath. Everything felt hazy though, like she was looking at memories in the distance through frosted glass – why couldn’t she see them clearly? As she shifted, the cold of winter setting into her bones, she began to stand up and dust the flakes off her blue shirt. Standing straight up brought at painful thump to her head and she winced, reaching up to her temple. When she withdrew her hands, she noticed her fingertips came back sticky and dark – a copper smelling ooze stuck to them.
“I’ll start my diet on Monday” “I’ll lose the weight next year, I promise” “Once I lose this weight my life will be so much better”. I tell myself these small platitudes and for the briefest of moments, I truly believe them. I think I want to believe them because we’re so conditioned to believe that our worth is tied to our outward beauty.
The Invisible Girl
She didn’t like to think of her demise, but when she did, Martina Ramirez didn’t think it would come so quickly, so callously, and so randomly. She certainly did not imagine the last words she would ever hear would be “I see you” and yet as she choked on her own blood and spit they sounded like an ancient curse, for they were words she had never heard before. She could have never known that picking up the small, unassuming black notebook off that man’s table would have been the opening scene on the final act of her life.