To Take out the Trash_The Tale of Mrs. Applebaum_Her mother_Dark Wood
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To Take out the Trash
tw: domestic violence This story is about someone who, despite taking out the trash many times before, does so one morning with his heart rate high. Chennai city is famous for so many things. Filter Coffee, cricket teams, asking ‘Can I?’ instead of ‘May I?’, beach-side romance, cinema fandom unity, the list is endless. Negatively, of course, it is famous for its slums, roadside spittles, illiteracy, child labour, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. But the entirety of the South Indian state of Tamilnadu, of which Chennai is the capital, is famous for its chaotic solid waste management. There a...
The Tale of Mrs. Applebaum
Lucas flips his jack-o’-lantern candy bucket and empties it onto the kitchen table when his Mom, Nancy, spots something. She stops what she’s doing, leans over the table, and asks, ‘Lucus, what’s this?’ Lucus spreads the candy as evenly as possible and considers a Butterfinger over some Sour Patch Kids. He hears: ‘Lucus, I’m talking to you,’ and shrugs his shoulders. ‘It looks like a note,’ Nancy awww.onedoor.ccdds.‘Big deal,’ Lucus replies. ‘I’ve gotten worse.’Nancy unfolds the note and reads it. ‘Lucus, did you know this was in there?’‘What?’‘The note – Lucus – the note. Did you read it?’‘I didn’t even kn...
Her mother
Her face. Her eyes. Familiar, but also innately stranger to her. They looked exactly the same. Their figure curved in the same spots and their eyes crinkled the same way when they smiled. Ayesha also clutched her handbag tightly to her chest when she was nervous; she also scuffed her boots on the floor when she was unsure what to say. Bitten lips and haphazard selection of clothes told Ayesha that they also both almost late for the discussion. They looked so alike. The teenage girl felt like wanting to touch the woman in front of her, just to check that this was all real and that this wasn’t ...
Dark Wood
Silas King cruised like a shark through a pulsing sea of bodies. One of the Glitter Bomb’s female bartenders had flagged a creep spiking women’s drinks and as the nightclub’s cooler, it was his job to eliminate the wolf among the drunken, clueless sheep. “Muscular kid,” Trish had shouted into his ear over the throbbing bass. “Tight silk shirt. White chinos. Brown leather slip-ons. GTO on his left bicep.” GTO was juking in the center of the teeming dancefloor with a blond in a pink, one-shoulder mini dress. Bare arms swaying overhead, she was lost in the music and ground her ass against his cro...