Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
In The Mirror
The frigid air blanketed everything in sight; Leo slowly dragged his leather booths on the snow ladened pathway. With one hand, he adjusted his grey beanie so that his head…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Hyacinth Lane
It is often felt, and less remarked upon, that the most bothersome thing in the world is to wait. It requires both patience and a strong mind to allow enough…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
No More Christmas
“That’s right, I killed Santa.” The words were out of my mouth, sharp and final, as I watched the light dim in my five-year-old son’s eyes. My heart clenched, painfully…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
In Eulogy of a Pelt
I woke up in a cornfield. The first thing I saw were the stars. It pulsed - that dotted swirl of remote diamond light, flush against the abyssal black. The…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Seeds
Arthur Miller is arrested two days before Christmas. It has been three months since Cody disappeared, and Miller is nothing more than a ghost of a man. His face is…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
An Overdue Parting
It was a Saturday evening like any other, as Luke stepped out of the wooden door that separated the fresh air and the dullness of his house. The clouds in…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
The Long Ride
“Traffic is still slowly crawling on the Tuas Link back to Johor-” Samuel Tang turned the radio off immediately. He did not need any more reminders of the soul-sucking, blood-curdling,…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Dead Letter Office
Memory is like a moth. It flutters. It drifts. It finds an abandoned wardrobe of precious clothes to nest and gorges itself, leaving behind the gift of dust and scraps.…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Ask the Angel
“Ask the angel.” That’s exactly what Nina did. Her companion’s expression didn’t change from where he towered over her abuela’s grave—he stared stony and gray, with the chiselled edges of…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Nobody’s Daughter
Lovely Elena. Beautiful Elena. Just Elena—but none of them ever came close to the one I so desperately craved to hear once more. The “Elena” that sounded as soft as…