family
The List
The day of my father, Steve Sullivan’s, funeral had to be sunny, of course. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. He lit up every room he entered with his bright smile, his kind eyes, and his infectious, silly humor. His Dad jokes were notorious. The only time I ever saw him cry was when my mother died. The irony of her being a neurologist and developing inoperable brain cancer wasn’t lost on my brother, sister, and me.
By Julie Lacksonen2 years ago in Fiction
Arthur "You'll Never Be Broke"
By Eudell Watts2 years ago in Fiction
The Pink Hedgehog
I find the pink hedgehog figurine in a flea market. Spiky, spunky, and improbably fuscia, it reminds me of Gracie. Gracie loves hedgehogs. If my parents weren’t diametrically opposed to any animal smaller than an Australian shepherd, we’d probably have five or six of them, with names like Bartholomew or Hazelnut or Jamie.
By Erin Friederichs2 years ago in Fiction
Furlough
The last time Maria's eyes were checked was at the DMV when she was sixteen. Her vision was fine, she thought. Her father had been a naval pilot, and her mother still didn't use reading glasses well into her sixties. Maria had expected the same fortune. But now, at twenty-three, she waited in a white leather chair at the front of a Lens Crafters while the attendant retrieved her prescription from the back.
By Anna Gumberg2 years ago in Fiction
A Tale of Two Mumbais
Kabir dropped his office bag on the floor and sank down onto his luxurious couch, loosening his tie. The huge grandfather clock in the corner of his way-too-big-to-exist-in-Mumbai living room read 11:49 pm. He absentmindedly fingered the platinum cufflinks at the end of his shirt sleeve and let out a deep sigh as his mind constantly replayed the evening he had just had. All these weeks of non-stop work, sleepless nights, files and figures and phone calls.... all for nothing. All to be brought back to square one. He glanced at the huge gilded photo of his parents hanging up on the biggest wall in the room, his father’s face forever looking down on him, forever judging. If this was an 80s Bollywood movie, he’d get drunk on the top shelf whiskey from his bar and give photo-dad an earful, he thought wryly, almost laughing out loud, with the emotion quickly turning into another heavy sigh. Maybe I will have that whiskey, he thought to himself, and slowly made his way to the bar, shedding his suit jacket as he went. He poured himself a drink, a larger one than usual, definitely a larger one than his father would have approved of, and walked out onto the huge sea-facing balcony.
By Maahi Trivedi2 years ago in Fiction
Island Secrets
Christobel was a free-spirited beauty everyone liked. They endearingly called her “Chris,” and she seemed to prefer that. She greeted you with a pearly white smile that sparkled up to her eyes. Snake eyes, her father called them. She had been a mischievous little girl whose mischief matured into something resembling evil. Secrets and lies provided the necessary cover of her true self, but she couldn’t help it. She was born that way.
By Della Jules2 years ago in Fiction
Misdirection
We’re supposed to avoid the shops but we’re here again. A handful of groceries stuffed into the basket of the stroller. Lining up in the 12 items or less queue behind a trolley loaded up with a years supply of cereal boxes, tuna tins and juice cartons. Apparently people have lost the ability to count also.
By Elizabeth Kelly2 years ago in Fiction