Dan G.

“Last breath ” by Dan G.

They speak the truth. When death brushes against you, it does not settle for a polite farewell. It tears you from yourself, hurls you into a labyrinth of memories, where you are both the architect and the prisoner. This is no film played out on the reassuring screen of distant recollection, no story tamed by habit. No. It is a tidal wave. Every moment resurfaces, not as an image, but in its full weight, its raw flesh, its bite.And first come the golden flashes. Those luminous instants that embrace you, that still keep you warm, despite the a...

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“Forgiveness ” by Dan G.

The judge’s gavel fell, marking the trial's end. The man I had grown to hate over the years was now guilty. Impaired Driving Causing Death—the phrase felt detached from the devastation it embodied. Twelve years. That was his sentence.From the back of the courtroom, I watched him smile, his hand extending toward his lawyer. The lawyer mirrored the gesture, satisfaction evident. The judge closed the file with practiced indifference and called for the next case. That was it. Over. No fiery speeches, no dramatic evidence to tip the scales. Just ...

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“Forgotten” by Dan G.

"I understand that this news isn’t what we were expecting, Ethan, but we have to stay positive. There are now all kinds of treatments that can slow down the progression of the disease. Alzheimer’s isn’t what it was twenty years ago."The neurologist’s words hung in the air, each note carefully composed yet devoid of melody. His tone was detached; a practiced recitation honed over countless iterations. He sprinkled in reassurances, but they rang hollow, unable to penetrate the growing void within me.I had noticed the signs. Memory lapses. Mome...

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“Her” by Dan G.

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember her, the first time I laid eyes on her. She knocked at the wooden door. I knew it wasn’t an adult knocking, I just know these things. The sound was light, timid, and just a bit too low on the door to belong to someone grown.I walked across my living room, the floorboards creaking under my weight, and unlocked the door. As I pulled it open, the hinges groaned softly, and there she was, standing on my porch, waiting for me.She came to me, and I knew it was her. I knew right away she was the one I’d been waiting for. I felt it. It’s ...

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“Home” by Dan G.

Submitted to Contest #284

I woke up in a bed, comfortable, enormous. My hands clutched a white blanket, pulling it close to my face. It smelled of lilac and vanilla, scents far too sweet for my taste.I rubbed my eyes, trying to banish the remnants of sleep and make sense of my surroundings. Where was I? What had happened? How did I end up here? My gaze darted around, searching for windows to glean the time of day, but there were none. The room felt enclosed, suffocating in its opulence.On the nightstand beside me, a photo caught my attention. It was of me. My face be...

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“By reason or by force” by Dan G.

Submitted to Contest #283

It came slowly, insidiously, like a fascist spider weaving its web, planting its threads from the peaks of the Andes to the beaches of the Pacific. It slipped into our lives gently, without a sound, into a dull and corrosive routine. The lines, endless and monotonous, became the daily backdrop of our existence, constantly reminding us that we had to wait. Wait for the factories to start again, for the trains to run, for the truck drivers to deliver. Wait for there to be something to buy.Our pockets were full, it was finally our turn, the tur...

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