Jenna Lee

“Stories We Keep on Display” by Jenna Lee

Submitted to Contest #286

Red, white, and blue were the colors that greeted me when I arrived at the front door of my grandparents’ house one hot day in June as the American flag blew in the breeze overhead. A six hour plane flight and a half-hour drive across Ohio’s endless acres of corn later had brought me and my father to their little cul-de-sac for three days and three nights of no internet and no cell phones. “Wifi, I miss you already,” I thought to myself.My father and I had just begun our first day in Germantown, Ohio, which would largely be spent in the Vete...

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“Nanna” by Jenna Lee

Dust danced in the light cutting through the shadows in the attic. Planting her knees on the creaky floorboards, Haley rifled through musty boxes adorned with faded scribbles. Living Room. Bathroom. Den. Keepsakes. A box caught her eye. It was different. Older. Corners frayed by time. “Hello, what's this?” she whispered to the mice watching from the cobwebbed rafters. Haley's fingertips grazed the box’s dust-laden cover as she heaved it from its shadowy corner with a grunt. The lid creaked open like a novel's first page, inviting her b...

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“The Deep End” by Jenna Lee

Submitted to Contest #274

It was just after 11 p.m. when the lights blinked themselves out, leaving Millie dripping wet in the dark.   With its dying breath, the shower head cried a river of ice, bathing her in Antarctic cold from every angle. She let out a shriek even their neighbors across the way must have heard, flailing her arms as she drowned in pitch black.   Millie shuffled into their windowless bathroom thinking a hot shower would help her catch some Zs. She was wide awake now. No one was going to sleep tonight.   ...

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“Purge” by Jenna Lee

Submitted to Contest #273

You fall out of bed like a corpse. The sunlight stings your bloodshot eyes. You haven’t sleep because your stomach was twisted into knots. Groggy, you gaze at the phone lying awake on your nightstand. The battery’s nearly drained. It’s only showing two bars. You dialed a number. The one your friends group told you not to. You stare at the digits on the keypad. You switch it off and throw it in your backpack.It takes ages to pull yourself up from the cold, wooden floor. You need to get changed for school. You’re terrified to look in the mirro...

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“The cuckoo clock” by Jenna Lee

Submitted to Contest #271

Her room was painted shades of black and white, the color of deadwood nestled against a sea of spring. Their wintry bark bore scars like eyes. I remember wanting to peel it back to see what was underneath.   Oma would sit for hours staring into the thicket above our beds like it was a window to the old country. Mom was knee high when the nine of them boarded a steamship bound for Ellis Island—her sisters, her uncle, her brother, her mother. They all came to live with us the day after Oma was diagnosed.   She tal...

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“The Pearly Gates” by Jenna Lee

Submitted to Contest #265

“But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.” — 2 Peter 3:10-13I’m shackled up to my feet with a chain ‘round my stomach, rid’in a bus with a band of thieves and murderers to God knows where. The summer sun is dancin’ high above Montgomery as sweet home, Alabama passes us by. It’s my birthday—feels like my last day on Earth.Sitting chained up next to me are cold-blooded...

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“To make your August” by Jenna Lee

Submitted to Contest #264

A man who sits in the middle of a bar either thinks he’s the life of the party or needs to get something off his chest. Bellied up, three whiskeys deep, I did precisely that when the bartender popped me the question of the evening. “You do’in all right, partner? You look pretty glum,” he asks, planting his forearms on the countertop and a towel draped over his shoulder. It’s a sweltering Saturday night in August. I’m at mi amiga’s wedding reception wilting on a Manhattan rooftop nursing a grudge against the fool who booked a weekend getawa...

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