Henry took his heart down from the shelf and blew the dust off. He shook it, checked the fluids, then put it back on the shelf. Continue reading
Fire
April 18, 2023, by A. U. Crawford
Despite the low crackling of dying embers, the morning was quiet. The fire trucks had come and gone, along with the news vans, and the nosy neighbors he had to avoid.
All that was left was Frank in a bath robe, and that stupid cat. Continue reading
Alone
August 29, 2018, by A. U. Crawford
Frank watched a plane pass overhead and imagined someone looking down at him in his speedo hugging himself. Winter bit into his joints and the heated pool beckoned him, but he hadn’t gotten the okay to jump in yet. Continue reading
It came from the kitchen
August 17, 2018, by A. U. Crawford
Poppy entered the living room, as composed as a wet cat could, and sat at Daisy’s bare feet. It took a while for her to notice, but Poppy continued to stare ‘till she did. Continue reading
Death
March 25, 2016, by A. U. Crawford
“The rod cannot touch the Earth except through my flesh,” Orobosa’s Nigerian voice was deep and heavy. Continue reading
Green Thing
March 18, 2016, by A. U. Crawford
“Dad look at that.” Logan said. Continue reading
Falling
January 22, 2016, by A. U. Crawford
“Driving fast is like falling,” Continue reading