Short Stories

Short Story: The Yellow Dress

“Edison McIntyre,” he said in his thick accent, affecting my heartbeat as he clasped my hand in his. The amused squint of his eyes didn’t help, our secret history flowing between us, unbeknownst to Mr. Finnigan. “Charles has told me all about you,” Sonny continued. “I look forward to us working together.” …

Short Story: My Mother’s Garden

The bees were already at work on the lavender bushes, despite the early hour, and I watered the base of the billowing plants to avoid soaking their fuzzy bodies.

“You’re doing a wonderful job,” I cheered them on, just like Mom used to do. She talked to the bees, the birds, and the plants the same way she’d talk to a child, asking them about their day and offering encouragement. When I was young, I swore they answered her. …

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