Grace R

“moths ” by Grace R

Submitted to Contest #151

There was so much darkness in the beginning, then suddenly, from nowhere, the window appeared.  It was modest, with a peeling white frame and deep, velvety blue curtains that hung loosely from its sides. I had wanted so desperately to reach my arm out and stroke the curtains with my fingertips, but I couldn’t see my body. I couldn’t feel my body. I had no weight to myself, but I could feel the wood beneat...

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“Silent Masterpieces ” by Grace R

Submitted to Contest #137

My favourite photograph of myself is not the one that you might think. It’s not the one that a drunk photographer had taken of me just after I had sold Katherine for over five hundred thousand dollars, the picture dizzy and filled with sudden, fantastical movement, me grinning in a suit, hair dishevelled and eyes fanatic with the accomplishment. I felt like a Roman Emperor, a true Caesar on my throne of marble and blood. My mother has that photo framed and hung in her dining room, and not a dinner party goes by where she doesn’t ...

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“Violin and Oboe ” by Grace R

Submitted to Contest #128

“A toast for us, the dreamers.” William stood to his feet, and Annalise watched his every movement. He rose the same way as he always did, slowly, as if he knew he could take his time, that he could take a century to move, and eyes would still be peeled on him. He smiled his vulpine smile, and everybody at the dinner began to raise their glasses, the sparkling liquid sloshing from side to side in each g...

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“Elysian” by Grace R

Submitted to Contest #116

My name is Alice.      I stare down at the four words on the sheet of parchment I keep tucked under my pillow every night. The words are like eyes, staring at me, unblinking. I hold the parchment tightly, maybe too tightly, for it begins to wrinkle under my hold.      My name is Alice.      I thought if I wrote it down, and looked at it, and fell asleep wi...

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“I and the eye ” by Grace R

I used to have the luxury of lying to myself that I was normal before the eye appeared. Before the eye, I could look into the mirror and see a human. A misshapen, half-formed human, maybe, held together by bits of string and drugstore lipstick, but a human. And now I can’t even do that.  Please don’t ask how the eye appeared. For the life of me, I can’t remember how it did. All I remember was that thre...

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“where the fox grows ” by Grace R

Submitted to Contest #111

The wind chimes were going at it again. As the wind blew, they crashed feverishly into one another, a frantic dancing orchestra that woke the girl sleeping on the couch.  As she blinked her eyes open and rubbed her cheek that had been pressed against a scratchy pillow all night, she glanced around the room worriedly. She began to absorb more sounds; the distant howl of a starving dog, the trees crashing...

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