Viva El Fotógrafo_The Story Finished Itself_THE SUN SETS ON THE MEADOW_Seraphine
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Viva El Fotógrafo
**TW/CW** This story contains instances of physical harm, violence, and gore, as well as adult language. Ashley and I had known each other for nearly 15 years, since the freshman year of college when we sat next to each other in English 101 at the University of Arizona. We became quick friends with similar interestswww.onedoor.cc. She became like a sister, and I was always protective. After graduation, we both moved back to Phoenix and started our careers. I worked as a photojournalist for The Arizona Republic and Ashley went to work as a paralegal. We’d see each other a couple times a month along with our ...
The Story Finished Itself
“You still haven’t finished the first draft?! Are you serious Matt?” Samantha screeched over the phone. Matt pulled his cracked iphone away from his ear, wincing at the sudden change in volume. He leaned back in his desk chair and propped his socked feet up on the scratched fold up table he used as a desk. He stared at the computer document that contained a book with no ending as his editor continued to berate him. “You’ve been working on this book for months, we should at least be on draft two by now.” “I know, it’s just that this world is really complex. It’s taking some time to work out the...
THE SUN SETS ON THE MEADOW
THE SUN SETS ON THE MEADOW I have been working in the Brothers Grimm and Associates architectural firm for almost twenty years. I have always been involved in the renovation , or refurbishment of bathrooms and kitchens. Never in all these years I have been asked to design a building. And when I say a building I don’t mean a public work (one), not a condominium or even a villa. No, I mean a single house, even a small one. Well, that morning , one of my bosses, Adolf Grimm, summoned me in his wide office. He even offered me a tasty, hearty breakfast, after which he started to talk about what...
Seraphine
I should be asleep by now. But something grabbed my attention. Fire, I think. A single flame. When I sit up to be sure of what I see. It is gone. A flicker. I sit a moment to see if it will show again. Nothing. I lie back down. And through closed eyes, I see something bright in front of my face. I open my eyes.And there it is. A flame hovering in the corner of my home just below the ceiling. In a blink. It no doubt retreated. It doesn’t shine as bright as it did when my eyes were shut. My eyelids stretch not yet adjusted to the dark. I try to see what it is connected to. It has to be connecte...