Sarah Nguyen
Stories (2/0)
Primaversary
The creak of a heavy door swung slowly, opening to a cement, well lit room. Floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors spanned the south wall exposing a courtyard that connected to the parking lot. Rows of tables set the stage of a classroom on the west side of the room. Vertical pallets stacked with magazines and heavy forgotten art history books created a make-shift library in the southeast corner of the room. On the other side of the tables, a counter and sink sat in the corner. Baskets and shelves of art supplies hung from the wall. A rug, surrounded by chairs and a stage in the center, sectioned off the back corner.
By Sarah Nguyen3 years ago in Fiction
The Angry Flamingos
Barry Token stepped onto the porch early Saturday morning. The neighborhood slept moments before the rise of the sun. Even with the summer heat, the darkness of night provided a crisp touch to the skin. Barry fantasized about his retirement. Next Saturday would be his first day unemployed in forty years. As he contemplated on a new hobby, he noticed an envelope under his slippers. Odd, he thought to himself. Why wouldn’t the writer of this letter drop it off in the mailbox?
By Sarah Nguyen3 years ago in Fiction