Rochelle Harper
Bio
Stories (4/0)
The Yellow Silhouette
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. It was a rare luxury to lounge at the sill. She had heard that there were once hundreds of windows in what was formerly a towering hotel. Within every room, a portal to the endless world just beyond the thin veil of glass.
By Rochelle Harper3 months ago in Fiction
My Pro-life Mother, Her Dog and their Abortion
In light of the fall of Roe V. Wade, which we can only hope is a brief tangent into fascism, I am reminded of my upbringing. My family lived in the deep South, we were raised hard-right Republicans, and my mother in particular was viciously, unyieldingly pro-life. She raised us on all the anti-choice rhetoric. Taught my brothers and I that life begins at conception and that there is no greater sin than to kill what hasn't even been born. That women who got pregnant needed to take responsibility for their actions and bear the child to term. That pregnancy was a natural part of life, and complications rare. That the very worst and most unforgivable abortions were in the third-term, which ripped apart babies that were just weeks or even days from being born.
By Rochelle Harper9 months ago in Confessions
Interplanetary Blues
Eoghan grasped at the mask with both hands, keeping the plastic seal pressed tight so he could gulp down mouthfuls of sweet, satisfying oxygen. His fingers trembled, nearly dropping the lifesaving cannister. Across from him, someone moved to press it back into place. The station swam around his head, and it took him a second to focus on the stranger kneeling over him. The heavily starched uniform marked him as upper management, but Eoghan couldn’t place a name to his face.
By Rochelle Harper2 years ago in Fiction
