Elisabeth Bridges

“The Dog and the Mole” by Elisabeth Bridges

One fine spring day a dog was trotting through a pasture. He lifted his nose to the breeze, enjoying all the scents of the sun-washed grass and the small, scurrying creatures.  Suddenly, he stopped and cocked his head. Straight in front of him was a peculiar sight. A mound of dirt was piled up right in the middle of the grass. As the dog watched, a fresh clump of sweet, dark earth seemed to shove its way out of the center of the pile and roll down the side, as if it was making a bid for freedom. “Why this is very strange,” the dog s...

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“Encounter in the Card Aisle” by Elisabeth Bridges

Patrick dumped a bag of coffee into his shopping basket and wracked his brains, trying to think if there was anything else missing from his cupboards or fridge. There probably was. “This is why smart people make lists,” he muttered to himself as he headed for the self-checkout stations.  Still, he wasn’t doing too badly, right? Lots of his friends were still at the mercy of college cafeteria meal plans. At least he got to choose what he ate and keep it in his own kitchen, even if that did mean eating dry cereal some mornings if he w...

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“Shawarma” by Elisabeth Bridges

Submitted to Contest #188

Alana Chambers picked at her dinner; poking at the salmon on her plate, occasionally raising a tiny bite to her lips and chewing mechanically without tasting it. The young man seated next to her glanced over with an amused but not unsympathetic twinkle in his eyes.  “Who ever decided that it was a good idea to have dinner before the speeches, right?” he murmured, leaning in so he could be heard under the mic-amplified voice of Ms. Catherine Sciama. The tall, impossibly elegant gray-haired woman was currently detailing the history of t...

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“Left Unsaid.” by Elisabeth Bridges

“Hey.” “Hi.” “How was your day?” “It was a day.” “Okay. I’m so glad I asked.” “I bet.” “Look, are we ever going to talk about this? We need to talk about it.” “About what?” “Come on, don’t be like this.” “Like what?” “Don’t make everything so difficult.” “I’m not the one using ambiguous language.” “You know what I mean.” “In which instance? You’ve used ambiguous language twice in the last thirty seconds. Once to insult me.” “I just don’t want us to go on like this.” “There you go again.” “No, there you go agai...

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“Portrait of a Friend” by Elisabeth Bridges

“No, it’s mine now! You can’t have it!”  “Carlos!” Katie swiped at the piece of paper that he held just out of her reach. “Give me that! It’s horrible; I’m throwing it away.” “What are you talking about?” He lowered the drawing and peered at it, twisting away as she made another grab for it. “Every single line is a study in perfection. I shall treasure it always.” “Shut up. Look, the eyes aren’t even the same size.” Carlos held the portrait up next to his face and screwed up one eye, letting the other bulge. “As I said, a perfec...

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“Rain Girl” by Elisabeth Bridges

Submitted to Contest #183

Sometimes, during these quiet days that hesitate between spring and summer, I still think of him, and wonder what would have happened if I’d stayed. Our first meeting was like something out of a movie; one of those improbable flickers of magic that remind us why life is worth living. It happened at that hour when the street lights have come to life, but the reflected sunset means it can’t properly be called dark. We were standing at a bus stop when the sky burst open in one of those sudden showers that come without warning in the autumn. S...

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“Everest Every Day” by Elisabeth Bridges

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #181

Opening your eyes in the morning is like making it to Base Camp. There’s been a long, cold trek through the night just to get here. You turn off your alarm and lay there in the darkness, testing your emotions like a bruise. No extraordinary pain; just the usual gray morning sludge. Maybe today won’t be so bad. The jeans on the floor aren’t too badly wrinkled. They might even be clean; you can’t remember. You tug them on and pull your hair into a bun, feeling the weight of consciousness settle across your shoulders like a pack. You’re begin...

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“No Lucky Star” by Elisabeth Bridges

Submitted to Contest #180

Kaz’s eyes are locked on mine, soft and warm. His lips graze the mic as he sings about finding his lucky star. My smile is automatic, as practiced as the tender, self-deprecating banter that always precedes this part of the show. It’s an old song, at odds with the rest of his music. The final, dreamy ballad from Singin’ in the Rain. I know without looking that the band’s faces are  blank, vacant, even as their instruments sigh and swoon. Kaz always jokes that he’d never even heard of the movie until I came into his life, and it’...

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“No More Procrastinating” by Elisabeth Bridges

Angela slouches on the stationary bike, her right thumb swiping rhythmically across her phone screen, keeping time with the soft sighs coming from the slowly rotating wheel. Swipe, sigh, swipe, sigh, swipe, sigh. The sound has a pathetic quality, and she wonders with a stab of conscience if it could be caused by dust in the mechanism. She loses her rhythm and looks at the raindrops trickling miserably down the dark window pane. Maybe one of her resolutions next year should be to stop allowing herself to be guilt-tripped by inanimate objects....

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