Brooke G

“Home” by Brooke G

Ruby must have been squeezing Pluto too hard because he was scratching her arms. The little girl let the cat go and huddled further into the closet. It was past bedtime and Mommy was yelling. Ruby clapped her hands over her ears. Feet stomped down the hall, and Ruby could feel it through the floor. She shook when Mommy banged on her bedroom door. Ian had told her to lock it, and now her big brother was yelling, too. There were mean words she was never supposed to say, a scuffle, and then a stampede of feet down the stairs. Ian was bigger tha...

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“The Season of Dragons” by Brooke G

Submitted to Contest #77

The red dragons in the sky cast no shadows below them. The 11-year-old boy in the grass followed them with his eyes, squinting as their translucent, serpentine bodies shimmered and twisted about. The air wavered with the heat of the day, like ripples in water. The dragons swam through it, leaving trails of smoke from their mouths and noses. Ronan swallowed away the itch of thirst in his throat. "If I didn't see another summer again, I'd be happy the rest of my life." Ronan sat up from the grass. Helena brushed a hand over her forehead ...

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“Precious” by Brooke G

Submitted to Contest #76

"Are they the ones who killed my brother?"When Daisy didn't get an answer, she glanced to her left. Her companion, an android named Clyde, stood in the shadow of the trees. His frown couldn't have gotten any deeper. It was the same expression her brother sometimes gave her. Daisy twisted her hands around the metal bat she was carrying. "If you don't answer, I'll assume it's a yes. And if you're wrong, whatever I do to them will be your fault.""Yes, it's them," Clyde said."All four of them?"He clenched his jaw. Eventually he settled for a nod...

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“Spilt Coffee” by Brooke G

Submitted to Contest #74

Ten. It was barely evening and the sky was dark with snow-whipped wind. Inside at a corner table, my eyes roved over the caramel swirls of my cappuccino. My fingers were swollen from the heat of the cup and from the walk through frigid air to a coffee shop I'd never been to. I'd have chilblains by the end of the week. Northern winter had begun and I hated it. I missed the year-round warmth of my hometown. At least the coffee here was amazing.  Nine. I glanced from my liquid comfort again to the commotion that had been growing the ...

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“Charlie, Dear” by Brooke G

Submitted to Contest #59

On the white oak floor of Charlie and Janna’s new home, Charlie stands stupefied. He stabbed his wife. She lays at his feet now, and a river of red flows along the polished planks from under her neck. She’s on her stomach, and her big brown eyes are closed. Charlie drops the knife. He grabs a wad of kitchen towels sitting on top of an unpacked box. It’s labeled “hosting essentials” in Janna’s artistic print, the ink faded, waiting to sit inside another closet, not to be used. Charlie collapses to his knees and dabs the towels against her ...

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