Posted inSupernatural
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…
Posted inCreative Hall Poems
On the horrifying ordeal of remembering
The first time I alluded to grief it felt as if I came in contact with myself––somewhat alarming voices of my mother drowned in floods, survivors of the water antagonising…
Posted inCreative Hall Health Love and Relationships
The A-Word
I see the Thing on my twelfth birthday. The doctor is still speaking to my mother in a language that isn’t foreign but might as well be, jargon my brain…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
C8H11NO2 + C10H12N2O + C43H66N12O12S2
“As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once. The Fault In Our Stars, page eighty-four.” I prop myself up on…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Bleeding Out
This is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The themes and actions portrayed in this story are fictional and should…