Oriaxel Knight
Stories (2/0)
I Met a Woman
I met a woman today. I work in retail, my job isn’t fulfilling, I'm depressed, I'm tired, my bones hurt, my soul is suffering, my passion is gone and I want to die. I feel these things every single day, and I hear poor solutions to my problem. “Just find another job,” “work harder.” This advice doesn't do anything but pile weight on my heart. It's hard to even call it advice. I call it privileged suggestion.
By Oriaxel Knight3 years ago in Psyche
Anne's Diner
Anne's Diner, a lovely family-owned hole in the wall that hardly got enough credit for being a restaurant. Let alone the best damned place to get a home-made cinnamon roll made by Anne herself; a charming old woman that always greeted all of her customers with a smile on her face that furthered the deep wrinkles adorning the corners of her eyes. Vadim loved the diner, even as he sat in the tattered red-and-white booth, elbows on the table that had been dressed in shattered glass and tossed food. He was too clean for the space, garbed in a black suit and frameless glasses. His pale skin too clean, his ebon hair too groomed. His hands were folded as though he were deep in prayer, pressed against his furrowed brow. “What a damned mess,” he commented quietly to the gloom. The power had failed some time earlier in the week, leaving the place to smell of rot, old food, and gore.
By Oriaxel Knight3 years ago in Fiction