Anna Luksha

“We Are Who We Are” by Anna Luksha

Submitted to Contest #189

It’s so terribly cold. Snow is falling, and it is almost dark. Something undoubtedly blue and black, bruised, scared, creeps around you in a way that weary souls do; the air feels old and afraid in that way. Someone calls your name. You don’t hear them, do you? You think that’s your name. Come on! He's calling for you. You find yourself drawn to his voice, his stature, his appearance. The man’s face feels comforting. It’s familiar, isn’t it? The way he lays his hand on your shoulder as you follow him. He slows his pace for you. He cares. ...

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“Anew” by Anna Luksha

There’s something about this woman— girl, really— in front of him that makes Gabriel wonder if they take applications from high schoolers now. “I’m not working with her,” are the first words out of his mouth, and yeah, sure, that was probably rude, but he thinks he has a right to be a little bitter that they’re throwing this kid into a war she shouldn’t have to worry about.  “You saw the file, Gabe,” Krasminski says, nodding towards the folder in his hand. He’d been given it last week, among others, and after sifting through some of t...

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“Pier” by Anna Luksha

“Let’s go for a walk.” Rob keeps his pace to mine, despite his longer legs. He doesn’t speak, not as the house fades out of view, and in place appears the docks. In front of me I can hear Carlos yelling good naturedly at one of his sons in law as they haul in the catch of the morning. The wind bites at my skin in a way only the brisk morning air of Maine summers can. Castine is more alive in the mornings than night, unlike most of the cities I’ve visited and vetoed. Something keeps me here, draws me back like a magnet. Maybe it’s just too in...

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“The Angel of Death and The Demon of Life” by Anna Luksha

She knows what a funeral is. She knows that you wear black and it smells like flowers from an old lady’s perfume and you sit awkwardly in a pew of a church you feel more familiar in than your own home. She knows because she’s been, and she’s had to wear that uncomfortable dress her mom makes her wear every time, and even more uncomfortable shoes that are half a size too small, but they don’t replace. Something’s different this time. Something that makes her realize why everyone hates funerals, and not because of uncomfortable clothing or pu...

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“Everyone Needs to Die” by Anna Luksha

Years start to blur, the same ways days do, melding together once they become all just the same. The human brain can’t compensate for memories like that. So the years blur like he imagines the days used to. One into the other, differentiated by eras and events rather than dates.There’s the Maggie Era. That's a good one. A first love, before the enhancement, when things were simple and he was just a soldier in the war with a girl back home.(Things changed. Things always change. He’s helpless to stop them.)Then the Maggie Era melded into the M...

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“All That Matters” by Anna Luksha

Submitted to Contest #139

Grow up, they said. They always told her she needed to grow up. He always told her it wasn’t her job to grow up. (Jia wasn’t the parent, Ben was. Ben had to be. He always had to be.) Ben kept her young by taking away years from his own life, raising her on his own, by making sure she never had to be the parent like he knew he had to be. When dad came home late, the smell of alcohol on his clothes, Ben was the one to stand in front. He took the heat. Dad wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t dare speak to her if he had anything to say about it...

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“Everything You Put Me Through” by Anna Luksha

We fell apart so slow.And maybe it didn't feel slow. Maybe it all came shockingly fast, hitting me one day when I was sitting alone because it hurt to think about you, maybe that's when it happened.I watched you slipping through the cracks. I wanted to believe that I was slipping with you, that we were just moving forward, that we were falling apart because we had to break to put ourselves back together, but I was simply wrong.You were slipping away and I watched.Or maybe I was the one slipping and you had never changed. I was just realizing...

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“Mom's Recipe” by Anna Luksha

Submitted to Contest #100

Mom’s recipe was the only one he’d use. And the only one he- along with his sister- would ever really eat. The world was hectic around him, too many news articles littering his feed, all about a deadly virus he didn’t care to think about. He’d had enough death to last a lifetime. Mark chopped the carrots, each snapping sound a testament to the negative thoughts chopping away at his sanity. It’d be satisfying to boil them soft, later on in the preparation. Next was the celery, and eventually, the onions, which most certainly hurt his eyes a...

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