Comments Posted By Brill

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The broom moves over the tile, a whisper in the darkness, when he hears the crack.

Jim looks up, startled, the broom held close to his chest, eyes roaming the dark basement. Nothing moves in those dark, forbidden shadows; nothing emerges from the night.

With a sigh, Jim returns to his duties–

unaware of the white fingers settling on his shoulder.

» Posted By Brill On 01.17.2013 @ 4:05 am


It starts as a leak. A hole in the dam.

Her hands hang by her sides as she looks at him, his open and earnest face, the words still ringing in her ears. Her flesh is glass, brittle, with the slightest weight against it enough to break the surface–

The first tear falls.

She collapses into his arms.

» Posted By Brill On 01.11.2013 @ 6:54 pm


She looks at the box, the edges trimmed with lace and the smooth, heart-imprinted sides.

“Well of course,” she says to herself, pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Uncle said their HAD to be a solution. So of course there must be one. He would not give me this otherwise.”

Satisfied, she set to work.

» Posted By Brill On 10.23.2012 @ 4:02 pm


In the darkness, she sat, and heard the roar of the crowd around her.

It was too late now. Too late to convince them that she was innocent. That she hadn’t fired the arrow that killed the Prince’s life.

Too late.

But still, she held her head high. And as she walked forth into the sunlight, she prayed that whatever came next–salvation or death–would be quick.

Executioner. Crowd. She squinted in the sunlight. Time to begin.

» Posted By Brill On 10.22.2012 @ 6:58 pm


The enemy lines were a dark line against the horizon, jagged silhouettes and roars of loyalty to their nation.

The prince bit his lip, thinking of his father back home–the father sick and weary, the people who needed him.

He raised his sword, the silver glinting orange in dawn’s light, and his army roared with one voice in turn.

» Posted By Brill On 10.20.2012 @ 2:32 pm


Her mind reeled from the images she saw, etched forever in her mind. Her father, standing over her sister’s body. A knife in his hand, dripping with blood, and the smooth, glassy look on his face as he looked into her eyes.

He took a step towards her, holding out a hand with a palm coated in blood, showing her her sister’s–

She whirled on her heel and ran.

» Posted By Brill On 10.19.2012 @ 6:50 pm


I imagine the way my mother raised me–strength with steel. There are parts of it I regret. There are parts of it I don’t.

Why? Why did she stand there while father watched me dig a needle out of cow dung with both hands?

I’ll never know. I’ll never ask her. I’m never going back to the farm again. Ever.

» Posted By Brill On 10.18.2012 @ 3:02 pm


Janice stands in the doorway and listens.

It’s all so loud from where she stands. All body glitter and paint, and pounding bass she can feel through the floor. These people are beautiful; she is practically the wallpaper.

She hovers there until Edmond notices her, offering his hand and a smile, as the room dims and his eyes grow brighter.

» Posted By Brill On 10.17.2012 @ 4:43 pm


I thought the other day of the lands of the Indians–sacred grounds that tourists muddle with filthy shoes and camera flashes, with tacky bright shirts and too-wide smiles.

I think of the natives, whose voice goes as a wind’s whisper on the breeze. And sometimes, I wonder who was more civilized in the end, when we first came.

» Posted By Brill On 10.16.2012 @ 4:23 pm


The land beneath her stood stacked neatly on either side of the grave.

She held a rose in her hand–a yellow thing, starting to wilt and curl at the edges. Her father’s casket rested in front of her, nestled in that moist earth.

She opened her mouth. No words came out. Instead, she threw in her rose and the first handful of earth.

» Posted By Brill On 10.15.2012 @ 6:38 pm


I think, sometimes, of the attic and the blackness it holds. I think of my father, coming down the ladder, spreading dust and dirt and corruption on newly-mopped floors.

Sometimes, above me, I hear creaking and groaning. I do not go up to check. I don’t want to know what’s up there.

» Posted By Brill On 10.14.2012 @ 11:49 am


Since my brother has left, I’m not sure what to think.

I feel torn–stuck in his shadow, like I’m the older sibling they forgot. Crouched in the darkness that blots out the sun.

On the other hand, I have never felt more courageous. More proud of him. It’s as if…since he’s gone, I can love him like I should.

My family life is a goddamned mess.

» Posted By Brill On 10.13.2012 @ 1:46 pm


She watched until sunlight winked off of the back of the taxi–just a flicker, enough to make her raise her hand to her eyes. Then it was gone.

He was gone.

She turned on her heel, a slow pirouette. She stood in the doorway, eyes wide at a house meant for two people instead of just her lonely soul.

She sighs and makes her way to the laptop; she has an ad to write.

» Posted By Brill On 10.12.2012 @ 5:40 pm


“Ah–Arthur.” Francis’s voice tightened as he walked up to the stop, the same way his arms tightened around his briefcase. “What a–delight to see you.”

Arthur merely looked at his wavy hair, plastered about his face, his pale lips made whiter by cold and rain–

And without another word, he tilted his umbrella so it sheltered both of them.

» Posted By Brill On 10.11.2012 @ 3:08 pm


“Just taste it, all right?”

She rolled her eyes, but offered her open mouth. The look on his face, flash of white teeth and brightened eyes, was worth it as she took a bite.

It crunched, loud enough that she heard it in her own skull. Water burst over her mouth. She shut her eyes, let it roll about in her mouth. Swore she tasted the earth it rested in.

“Not bad, I guess.”

» Posted By Brill On 10.10.2012 @ 5:40 pm


“How’s the cuffs?”

He pulls a little bit, not enough to hurt but just enough to dig. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll tell you if they’re too tight.”

“How’s your heart?”

This question, lowered to his ear. Whispered. It stutters.

“Never been better.”

They kiss like molten metal.

» Posted By Brill On 10.09.2012 @ 3:45 pm


The flesh throbbed and oozed and dripped. Blood, coagulated and thick, splattered on the floor.

Janet looked into one wide, pale blue eye–one of the opening maws filled with human teeth. And she willed her mind to stay together.

“All right then,” she said through gritted teeth, and fired her first shot.

» Posted By Brill On 10.08.2012 @ 3:06 pm


“Are you happy?”

“What kind of question is that?” she asks, looking from his arm around her shoulder up towards his chin. He doesn’t look at her, his gaze fixed over the wide expanse of grass and wildflowers.

“An honest one. Are you happy here?”

She thinks for a moment before settling into his arms. “I think so.”

» Posted By Brill On 10.08.2012 @ 4:05 am


He stands at the edge of the cliff, and the straps of his parachute hug his shoulders tight.

For just one moment–just one–he looks over his shoulder. At his brother, bald and weak with chemo, still smiling. At his mother, her hands folded over said brother’s shoulders, her smile muted but always encouraging.

He grips the parachute and jumps.

» Posted By Brill On 10.06.2012 @ 3:24 pm


Detective Frolo pauses, his fingers lingering over a piece of evidence. He sees the body. He finally sees the body.

His eyes stay fixed, his expression blank as he walks over, pressing fingertips to the back of a cold hand. No motion. No warmth. His gray eyes squeeze closed.

He closes his brother’s eyes and says a deep prayer.

» Posted By Brill On 10.05.2012 @ 4:12 pm

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