• She wasn’t like other girls.
    She’d made sure of it when she came through the machine, grabbing the ink blotter and adding an extra freckle to each cheek. Even robots don’t want to be direct copies, right?

  • Mercy is my father killing the dog last Tuesday. His hands, wilted and strong, holding the gun to Cassie’s head when the blood spread from her stomach to her mouth. Bullets are cheaper than vet bills, and vet bills are cheaper than the pain that comes from having a wolf bite into your stomach. I wanted her to live, because there’s gotta be someone…[Read more]

  • We were always sisters, even when we were didn’t share blood. That’s what happens when you fall in love with a friend, fall in love with the way her shiny black hair falls out into your hands when you braid it, splaying across your fingers like they were veins. I remember the day we made it official, slitting our ankles since they would later be…[Read more]

  • He lines his shoes up by the door, so he could wait until the very last minute to decide which ones to slip into. He had never been good at decisions.
    That’s what Hannah had said, anyways. He could still remember the conversation.

    “Do you, Jay?” She’d asked.

    “What?” He knew what. He was indecisive, not stupid.

    “You know.” She glanced…[Read more]

  • Sometimes when the sky turns red she walks down to the shore. If she squints, she can see the purple that the blue sea makes at the horizon when it meets with the clouds above. The shells are always sharper on red days. She swears that everything is harder, that everything is tinted rouge, like the layer of blood was on top on the skin instead of…[Read more]

  • Vivian P DeRosa commented on the post, steady 3 years ago

    Stay steady. Don’t fall. This was the sort of thing I was thinking as my hands began to shake while trying to hold the rope that was hanging from the gym ceiling. My knees did their best to stay clenched, but I could feel them wobble. I felt the gaze of my 2nd grade classmates, was Mrs. Wellington herself watching? She was. 16 pairs of eyes…[Read more]

  • Vivian P DeRosa commented on the post, role 3 years ago

    The role I played in it all was small. The man at the desk didn’t care. “You participated?” He asked, rolling the tip of his beard between his thumb and index finger. “Not the way you’d think.” “You participated?’ He repeated. I had to nod. He smiled, cracked yellow teeth leering.

  • She wanted to be graceful. Grace Kennedy graceful. Graceful like the girl at the bus stop who made waiting look like a dance an opera house would exhibit. Instead, she trips over words, trips over floorboards. She tripped through her days, each fall worse than the next. The only thing graceful about her were her eyebrows- wasn’t it elegant, the…[Read more]

  • He was smiling, but she could tell. Tight cheeks, eyes that narrowed over the cobblestone path, clenched hands at his sides, proper posture, too perfect, stiffly adjusting the length of his sleeves. She knew. He wasn’t happy. Her heart plummeted. What did that mean for her?

  • The way she had arranged the evidence looked like armor. Printed text message after printed email, the dress with the lace that she found in her closet that was two sizes too small. She laid them on the floor, overlapping, like the metal on chainmail. How would he cut through this defense? She knew he couldn’t. There was no excuse for this. It…[Read more]

  • There was a moment of silence, a hands-sweating, neck-shaking moment of silence, after the announcer stated, “And now, the Prom Queen is-” And it was in that moment of silence that I looked over at Sydney, and Sydney looked over at Dana, and even though its kind of impossible to have a three-way look, I think we shared one. And I think smiles are…[Read more]

  • I never should have gotten involved. There is something decidedly off about helping a forty-year old man drag his hot dog cart from Arkansas to New Jersey. But that didn’t exactly stop me from grabbing one side of the handle, did it? I was bored, I guess. The problem with boredom is that you never appreciate it until its far, far gone.

  • “Can you clarify? How exactly did it feel when he was with you?”

    She rolled her fingers on her knees. ‘Like,” She said, “Like all the water in the clouds fell at once onto earth after the longest drought in the year. And you’re drowning, but you’re so happy to have water you don’t notice until the oxygen is pushed out from your lungs.” She…[Read more]