Scientist by day, aspiring creative fiction writer by night. Fantasy, adventure, and thrillers are my jam, and if you sit still long enough I'll probably knit you something.
A Pale Imitation
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. She was still Andie then. My Andie, full of life and wonder at every new thing. We’d met while working at a gardening center, my hands always caked in dirt, hers picking nervously at whatever she had in her grasp. We came together like magnets, our very molecules straining for each other from the moment our eyes met across the parking lot on her first day.
“You forgot your briefcase!” my wife called out from the kitchen, stopping me in my tracks. “It’s not a briefcase!” I called back, while straightening my tie in the hallway mirror. I leaned closer and attempted to rub away a small stain on my crisp white shirt, licking my thumb when it stubbornly stayed behind. It taunted me, that imperfection, its presence an unwanted defect in an otherwise perfect day. I rubbed harder until I caught my gaze in the mirror. Schooled my features from angry to a well-practiced smile. I took a breath and tucked that part under the lapel of my suit jacket.
“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.” “Tell that to that poor bastard.” I gagged into my fist as I stared through the port window into eyes whitened with death. His forehead was slumped against the thick glass, mouth open in a silent shriek. Blood covered the lower half of his face, down his neck, dried dark on his white long-sleeve shirt. Standard issue for any civilian in the Expansion Corps.
The Radius Between Us
The sounds of clanging metal brought her out of a deep dreamless sleep. Her eyes were so dry they felt glued shut, her mouth an arid desert. Her throat stung when she tried to swallow, like forcing razor blades down. Lifting a weak arm she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, sure they would be red-rimmed and bloodshot if she could get to a mirror. More clangs and she jolted in her seat, a strap pulling at her abdomen. Forcing her eyes open, she saw wood paneling, and red velvet curtains with tiny gold tassels adorned the window next to her. Snow capped mountains in the distance steadily marched past.
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It caught my eye as I walked through the dense woods, far too dark on this moonless night. I didn’t remember getting here, putting on these clothes, choosing this nail color. Where I had been before this? What did I remember?
Cradle the Dawn
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, you know.” Zinnia took a drink from her waterskin, and handed it over to me. Even the lukewarm water was refreshing when it hit the back of my parched throat. It didn’t come close to quenching my thirst, but it would have to be enough. “Well, they’re here now, what’s your point?” Handing it back to her, I licked a drop from my bottom lip before it could fall away.