ad astra | scene, somewhere

  The air was thick and close, and the restless wind tossing the treetops did little to relieve it. The earth rumbled with the reverberations of a distant summer blitzkrieg, and every so often a quicksilver vein of fire would race from the darkened clouds to strike the horizon. She leaned out the open window,…

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intermezzo | scene, somewhere

rain and wind, lightning and thunder, snow and ice, dawn, dusk and moonlight — days dance by and become years before i realize they are gone. small whisper-green leaves drink sunlight greedily and strengthen into a roaring chorus in the treetops, only to weaken, drooping in a final defiant blaze of color before they drop,…

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wasting | scene, somewhere

the clouds were gathering thickly; the thunderheads gleamed eerily from the early blue-black darkness of a stormy sky. it was summer again, early yet, but the city caught and held the heat until the tension was palpable and everyone longed for the storm to break. it had broken for her long before. she pushed back…

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winter of discontinuity | scene, somewhere

“she’s back.” “who’s back?” “you know. that girl.” “no. what girl?” “that girl you used to pal around with.” “what?” “don’t be stupid. that girl in research. short, quiet. kind of nondescript.” “well, how’s a description like that going to give me any clue what you’re talking about?” “ugh.” “all the girls in research are…

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alone | scene, somewhere

the weather had turned cold suddenly, with the point-blank ferocity of winter howling its triumph over warmth. the temperature was falling steadily outside; weathermen with excited eyes predicted the season’s first snowfall. it got dark earlier now, but he didn’t mind. he liked the darkness, in some ways — the darkness out of doors made…

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and after that | scene, somewhere

the orange bottle of pills stood there on the kitchen table, its white cap flaring upward into the jaunty easy-open position designed for the elderly or mildly confused. it was hard to get the top off when it got turned upside down and became child-safe. but there were no children here to sneak the little…

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mourning light | scene, somewhere

he stared at the window, at the clear, cold shafts of light illuminating a haze of dust motes. many times he’d caught her looking at it with an air of quiet delight. finally he’d asked what she was doing, and she replied, “watching the light.” as though he couldn’t tell. her big eyes stood out…

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him | scene, somewhere

the barbering scissors lay shining in the drawer, primly in a row with bamboo-handled brushes and the broken-toothed tortoiseshell comb. she stared at them for a moment, as they stared blankly back, demure, yet shameless, dumb. the handles kissed her fingers coldly as she drew the scissors out and absently closed the drawer flush with…

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she | scene, somewhere

she wasn’t like the girls he knew. she rarely gave compliments (to him), and when she did they were matter-of-fact statements of the obvious and accepted made before moving on to more relevant subjects. she was always falling through her clothes, as if she and they had been washed together and she’d been the one…

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continuum | scene, somewhere

(first, read this) he walked to the window and drew back the curtain to stare at the brick wall on the other side of the alley. the sleeping homeless lay curled against a battered green dumpster, their meager bundles of possessions doubling as makeshift pillows. he looked up, up, straining his neck to see the…

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