Short Story
Halloween Town
I am sitting in my car, dwelling on my anxiety and guilt, trying to nurse my nerves into submission. I sigh heavily and finally push open the car door - it feels heavier than usual. I loosen my tie and stagger into the house. Instantly, an aroma of sweet, savory foods hit me like a brick. She cooked dinner for me. My guilt rose to the forefront of my mind with excited intention.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
Fire Bug
I nursed my coffee as I turned back onto 71st Road. I had gotten so used to seeing the familiar scenes of my silly town that I almost missed the small orange glow. I stared at it strangely, trying to process what I was looking at. I reached down and grabbed my radio.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
Coffee and Monsters
This was a good first step, I told myself as I entered the cafe. I kept repeating that phrase, but it didn’t make it easier to blend in. I glanced around at all the humans sipping their coffees and getting caught up in their own little worlds. I envied them that simplicity. Humanity was always easier. I frowned and turned my attention back up front.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
Summer Nights
The pine trees swarmed around the lake like a great barrier, keeping everything safely inside. To the boys, Patrick and Michael, it seemed like the woods were creating a private summer getaway spot just for them. Of course, their parents and little sister were still tagging along - someone had to provide the snacks and juice boxes, they supposed. But once they had been well sunscreened and had their floaties tucked on, they felt like they were swimming all along on their perfect island.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
Arthur who had graduated in 2001 had been a ghost in his own skin, someone who slouched through hallways with his head down, perfecting the art of invisibility as though it were a survival skill rather than a symptom of crippling social anxiety. He had been the kid who ate lunch in empty classrooms, who volunteered for cleanup duties just to avoid the cafeteria's cacophony, who perfected the excuse that he had "plans" when really he would go home and lose himself in video games and science fiction novels that offered more safety than any human connection could provide. The bullying had been subtle enough to be deniable, cruel enough to wound, consisting mostly of exclusion and mocking whispers rather than physical aggression, which somehow made it worse because he could never point to a bruise and say "look what they did to me." His mother had urged him to attend previous reunions, arguing that people changed and that holding onto old grudges only wounded himself, but the thought of facing those same faces, even now, sent shivers down his spine that had nothing to do with the autumn breeze drifting through his open window.
By Forest Green4 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
Meanwhile, Scott bustled in from the pantry, arms loaded with a wooden serving cart that he had rescued from his parents’ attic, now polished and retrofitted with wheels for easy maneuvering. He set the cart beside the refrigerator, carefully arranging a selection of glasses, napkins, and a small bowl of ice cubes that he had meticulously measured to avoid spillage. “I think we’re missing a garnish,” he mused, his eyes scanning the tray before he produced a small basket of lemon wedges, the zest of which promised a burst of freshness with each sip. Peter, feeling an odd mixture of excitement and nervousness, walked through each room, turning on lights and adjusting curtains to achieve the perfect blend of natural and artificial illumination that would set a warm, welcoming tone. He paused at the hallway table where he had laid out a handwritten welcome sign, its script neat and inviting, and whispered, “Let’s make tonight one to remember.” The final checks were performed in near‑silence, each man moving with purpose, their collective effort forming a seamless choreography that would soon be witnessed by dozens of old friends.
By Forest Green4 months ago in Fiction
Mirror World
The room was backward. It was like looking at a reversed photograph of the space. My head was still foggy and spinning, but I was awake enough to know that something was wrong. I was in my house, and yet, it was clearly not my house at all. Everything was familiar, but it was all different. Even the sunlight seemed to be coming from the wrong side, as if it rose in the west and was spiraling in the opposite direction around the earth.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
The Detour
“I hope it’s not meaningless to apologize because I am so sorry,” I whispered. Her heated breathing faltered for a moment, but she said nothing. Soundless tears dripped heavily from my eyes but I followed her instructions and continued walking out of the house.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
