Tag: short story

  • Attention

    “His mere presence demands attention,” the woman next to me whispered.  I looked back to the robed man pacing on the stage and wondered what I had gotten myself into.  I had signed up for a youth retreat, but it seemed a little more like a brainwashing than a yoga retreat.  It was fascinating and I couldn’t get enough.  The…

  • Losing

    “She appears to be alone,” I told Scott.  “You should go talk to her now before someone else does.  Only one person gets to talk to the new girl first.”    Scott kept staring, but when he got up, I was even shocked.  He was always nervous around the girls he was interested in, but maybe…

  • Mind Your Business

    My mother was always the mind your own business type.  The no-nonsense type.  She had a plan and she stuck to it.  I never knew how she could possibly fit so many tasks into one day.  I liked to take my time.  But that’s probably why I wasn’t nearly as successful as my mother.  At least not as successful as she would like me to…

  • Old-Fashioned

    “I am old-fashioned.  I can’t help it,” I heard the man at the table next to me telling the woman he was with about how sorry he was about opening the door for her.  I couldn’t help but listen as I waited for Garret to show up.  I was amazed that she was making such…

  • Dancing

    All I wanted to do was to get home and sit on my couch and not talk to anyone.  Being a backup dancer was exhilarating, but after nine months of constant touring, I was ready for a break.  The first two days home, I turned my cell phone to silent and rotated between my bed,…

  • Passion

    The passion in the artist’s eyes made me long for what I once had.  I once felt like I belonged to a group – to a community – but now I am not so sure.  It really started the weekend of my first “unofficial” show.  My then boyfriend (also a starving artist) had set me up…

  • Vulnerable

    “He is nothing but vulnerable so give him a break,” I said as I raised the axe above my head.  I heard the satisfying thunk of splitting wood and waited for Scott to respond.  “He is twenty-nine years old.  Time for him to grow up and get out.”  I sighed one of the millions of sighs I had when…

  • Caring

    “He doesn’t care about you,” I told Kristin.  “He never has.”  “Yes he does.  How can you explain the gifts?  The trips?  The clothes?”  Kristin continued to curl her hair as I sat on the edge of her bed.  I was skeptical of this guy she was going to meet, but she didn’t want to hear anything…

  • Things I Wanted to Say

    “There are lots of things I wanted to say but never did,” I wrote.  I stared at the letter I had started for the tenth time before crumpling it and throwing it into the pile with all the others.  What could I say to the one person I had loved so much, but had failed…

  • Dust

    The dust didn’t even have a chance to settle.  I wanted out of the relationship before we had even had a chance to get very serious.  Henry had seemed so perfect when we first met, but things quickly deteriorated.  I overheard Henry telling people how happy he was and years later, I still cringe.  I met Henry at the gym one morning before work.  I…