An Answered Prayer_On The House_Consequences_Truth and Happiness
Catalog Guide:
An Answered Prayer
Trigger warning - story deals with death.An Answered Prayer“Are you there, God? www.onedoor.ccIt’s me, Violet.” Violet paused in her prayer, unsure about continuing. She didn’t know what God might think about what she wanted. Was she about to pray for murder? Violet didn’t necessarily want Pops to die, but she worried that her mother was killing herself with exhaustion. Her parents often argued about it. Violet wanted to go back to how it was before.Would it be so bad, she wondered if she just wished this long-drawn-out illness would end? Would it be murder if she asked God to ‘take care of it’ like her mot...
On The House
A pale orange square-handled coffee mug sat on the counter in front of Nina as she sketched, completely oblivious to the din of the diner. “One slice of cherry pie, fresh out of the oven,” said Jess, the pregnant 32-year-old server. She placed a speckled blue plate with a slice of sweet, steaming pie on the counter.“I didn’t order that,” said Nina, not bothering to look up from her sketchbook. Despite being almost forty, she spoke with the tone of a teenager. “Eat it. It’s on the house,” said Jess, a hint of motherly irritation in her voice. Nina was losing weight just as quickly as Jess was g...
Consequences
Consequences Mile Marker 75 He waved the pistol at me like a pointer, urging me forward as I looked to him for direction and struggled to grasp the steering wheel, slick with sweat. “Which way? Straight?” “Yeah, keep going east till I say otherwise. Got it?” I nodded, shivering despite the June sun’s heat blazing through the windshield. My morning coffee sat untouched in its holder since I’d placed it there almost an hour ago when my carjacker jumped in the passenger seat. Shame on me I guess, for stopping at a deserted 24 hour convenience store, but my early meeting set me on the road just a...
Truth and Happiness
I sat idly at the table playing with my food, doing my best to avoid telling my daughter about my decision. What would Amanda think, I said to myself. Glancing at her eyes, I could tell she sensed something was off. She repeatedly shifted her focus from her dish to my face, until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Gently, Amanda placed her fork on the table, and as it struck its surface, its sound broke the deathly silence filling the room. “What is it, dad,” she asked.It was a simple question, one that should have been easily answered, but I had to dig deep in my soul to find strength to drag th...