Esther Andrews

“Class Act” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #241

Being hastily excised from both my mother’s life and her will cut deep. It was the most unfathomable betrayal. I didn’t see it coming. I probably should have. But I didn’t. For sisterhood is a sacred bond. At least that’s what I had always believed.When I was a toddler, before I could walk, my sister would grab me by the arm and yank me up off the floor. She wanted a playmate and I was just the person to fill that role. Meanwhile, she shoved my twin brother down to the floor every time he attempted to stand or walk. It was me, and only me, s...

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“The Last Sail” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #240

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The earth was still. Tranquil. Diminutive waves gently grazed the shore. It was simply not possible to conjure a more perfect late summer afternoon, though you innately sensed the weather was about to turn. The deep green foliage along the coast would soon transform into fiery shades of orange, yellow, and red.We were young, kids really, my husband and me. Newlyweds. At times it felt like we were just play acting at being adults. We were broke, just trying to survive from day to day. We shared a tiny one-bedr...

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“Night Breeze” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #240

Whirring fan blades insulated my ears from the cacophony of cars and late-night dog walkers beneath my bedroom window. Curled up under silky sheets with a thick, fluffy duvet tucked tightly around me, I unwound the events of the day in my head and felt myself slowly drifting off.But sleep would not come so easily that night, for, just as my mind quieted and my muscles relaxed, a strong gust of wind blew across my face and into my ear, making its way quite painfully all the way down to my eardrum.“What the hell?” I wondered, immediately shoot...

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“Who am I?” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #238

Sensitive themes: Violence, Mental Health Who am I? I’m a monster. I’m grotesque. I am, in equal measure, an alluring woman and a venomous snake, coiled and ready to strike. I surreptitiously draw men in by exposing my exquisiteness while simultaneously masking my repulsiveness. Then I attack. My poisonous venom oozes through their veins, seeps into their brains, and drives them to the brink of insanity. I slowly, but systematically destroy them. They call me Echnidia. Whoa. Though one or two of my exes might beg to differ, I’m pretty sure t...

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“Dear Stupid: A Love Story” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #237

Saturday, 10:00 p.m.Them: “Your stupid.”Me: “Excuse me? You’re coming in a little hot there, buddy. We haven’t seen each other in how long? And that’s what you have to say to me? I’m stupid?”“And FYI – It’s ‘you’re’ (not ‘your’), as in you’re the one who’s stupid here. Obviously. First, for calling me stupid completely out of the blue. And second, for not being able to put together a simple, grammatically correct two-word sentence.”Them: “Wow. Feisty! I just remembered…you always had to be the smartest person in every room…constantly correct...

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“The Way Home” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #189

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Christmas Eve. It hadn’t been snowing when we had first headed out on our walk down the dirt and gravel road, now frosted in a thick layer of white. Nor had it been so windy.  Clearly nature didn’t want to disappoint on this holiday eve, delivering an idyllic display of feathery flakes that landed gently on my exposed hair and dampened it ...

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“Emma & Lars” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #183

“You gonna stab me with those scissors?”“Yes. Yes I am,” I quipped. “I’m going to puncture your flesh with dozens of wounds. I’m thinking I’ll fashion a very large and extremely conspicuous pattern on your torso. Maybe a pentagram. Maybe a peace sign. I haven’t decided yet. Then I’m going to cut you up into tiny little pieces with these very same scissors. I’ll do it slowly. One tiny hair or fragment at a time. I’ll really relish the process. Then I’ll dispose of each individu...

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“Marla's Cabin” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #181

Marla’s personality, from the time she was a toddler, could best be described as an “I” on a Myer’s-Briggs personality test. She was undeniably an introvert, who often hid behind her older sister and refused to speak to adults she didn’t know. Whenever someone curiously queried about Marla’s unusual behavior, her mother exasperatedly muttered, with a dismissive wave of her hand, that Marla was shy. ...

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“Bonicia” by Esther Andrews

Each day’s struggle serves to remind me I’ve reached the final chapter of my life. Consequently, though not without apprehension, I spend my time in quiet retrospection of not only the events I conducted along my journey, but also those thrust upon me. My objective is simply to determine if my scale was at least balanced, if not more heavily weighted, toward the good I was able to perform in my lifetime. ...

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“U-Turn” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #124

“Stay in the left lane.” “In one mile, make a U-turn.” “In 800-feet, make a U-turn.”  “In 200-feet, make a U-turn.” My GPS unrelentingly urged me to perform an illegal U-turn while I remained steadfast in my refusal to play along.  With all of its intelligence, shouldn’t it know better than to demand I make...

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“Sunny” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #123

Her name couldn’t have been more befitting of her disposition. It was as if the gods had convened and prophetically chosen it for her.  In truth, however, she was unintentionally christened when her mother, thoroughly drained after thirty-eight hours of labor, simply looked out her hospital room window and muttered, “It’s sunny.” A nurse who’d been attempting to complete a birth certificate for more than ...

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“The Album” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #120

Kneeling on my bedroom floor, surrounded by a sprawling disarray of packing boxes, I reach for the heavy, oversized, and very dusty books on the bottom shelf of my bookcase and begin pulling them out to organize them into boxes. I hum as I pack, then start ad-libbing a little song to amuse myself: “Yearbooks go in this box…Picasso over there…travel books way over there...” I stand up to perform a little t...

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“Kevin Can't Lie” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #76

Amanda, a new mother – and a single one at that - came to the startling realization immediately after giving birth to her baby boy, Kevin, that she was going to be the one and only person on the planet required to teach him everything. Absolutely everything. So, not only was she exhausted from the 24-hour ordeal she had just endured, but also at the magnitude of the job ahead of her. Of course, Kevin coul...

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“A Life's Mission” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #75

Trigger warning: abuse   This wasn’t supposed to be her mission.    Sheila wasn’t born into a happy, carefree life. Every time she pulled out her dusty, faded photo albums and scanned through the photographic evidence, she noted it was extremely rare to find an image that captured her smiling. In fact, in nearly every photo she appeared to be on the precipice of bursting tragically into tears.    Throughout her childhood, the mantra Sheila’...

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“Brazilian Sojourn” by Esther Andrews

Submitted to Contest #59

Sheila had barely tiptoed outside the borders of the United States, having only ventured on a couple of short jaunts into Mexico and Canada. So, when she saw an opportunity for exciting travel, she made a bold move – she volunteered to represent her team at an industry conference in Brazil. Little did she know at the time what she’d be getting herself into. “It sounds exciting,” she though...

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