Fiction

Clary sits on a park bench, and tries to remember what it feels like to be touched. The quick push of a stranger’s shoulder as they slide by you into the subway car beside you. The energetic hug from a friend you barely knew. The desperation for feeling the interlaced...

Their first date they played Jenga with lit matches and pick-up sticks with unthreaded needles. The corner of his napkin caught fire and he whipped it dead. A hole opened in his palm, outlined with black powder. They smiled at each other and kissed, passing a lemon...

I’m not a storyteller, a writer, or anything. I just like writing down the truth. As I see it. What thoughts come to me. That’s what Cal would’ve done. He would’ve done that for me. None of this was Cal’s fault. “Take the pills,” they said. “Take them just as...