The Unseen World grapples with this abstract notion: if memories are the fundamental building blocks to a coherent identity, when one loses these memories or memories are distorted —who does this person become? Who are they in relation to you?
Steve Flinton sat in an armchair and watched the morning news. He tried to hold his tongue as he checked his watch. Again. Nine-thirty. He had wanted to leave the hotel by eight forty-five for the museum, and the hotel stopped serving breakfast at ten. But in a family with three women—his wife and two … Continue reading Short Fiction: The Family Man
Mom is sitting on the couch again. She’s been doing this lately. “Fishing,” she calls it, as if a little self-reflection is all the rod and line she needs to remember what is—has—been gone, going, for the past five years. Mostly, she naps. But when she wakes up, she’ll tell me about the lake again. … Continue reading Short Fiction: Dockside
Robert, Another day, another hundred errands. Could you please take Robbie to the beach? I’ve packed some snacks for you. For dinner I’m thinking pizza. Call for trouble. xoxoxoxoxo Mathilde * Robert thought of paintings on the drive to the beach. The sunny day expressed every … Continue reading Short Story: The Starfish