Marie ONeal

“The Flip Side” by Marie ONeal

             If there was ever a day I’d like to start over, it was this one. My plan had been simple enough. I was going to shop, have lunch at Café Roma, and then end it curled up in my favorite chair with a book that I planned to purchase at the little bookstore on the corner of Summer and Register. I should’ve stayed home. But I’d planned for this day for weeks. My apartment was clean, I’d gone to the grocery store and stocked up on popcorn and a variety of teas, and the fo...

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“No Turkey” by Marie ONeal

Submitted to Contest #69

“What do you mean, no turkey?” Surely, I had heard wrong. My dad did not just say there would be no turkey for Thanksgiving.                “No turkey this year” he repeated.  “Marie wants to cook and I agreed to let her take control of the menu. Jake and Tracey will be here too, and I think it would be a decent gesture to show them some courtesy and flexibility.”               “...

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“Forgiven ” by Marie ONeal

Submitted to Contest #68

​It had been twenty-four years since she had last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. The wooden cross that her grandfather had carved from an old oak still hung on the wall above the choir loft. Beautiful stained-glass windows still allowed warm sunlight to light the sanctuary while still blocking any view to the outside. White shutters hugged the windows, available to close if the light ever got too bright or he rays too warm. The same wooden pews sat patiently in rows on each side from back to front, with a...

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“Perfect” by Marie ONeal

Submitted to Contest #67

My stomach knots into a tight ball of twisted barbed wire. I want to vomit. Summer, my best friend since second grade, practically skips back to our table from the restroom. “Can you believe it? I’m getting married!” Summer wiggles her left hand so that the light will catch the gorgeous diamond resting on her ring finger. “Let’s take a selfie!” she squeals. She pats her back pocket and searches her purse for her phone. Not locating it in any of the usual places, she resorts to searching underneath the ...

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“Draw The Line” by Marie ONeal

Submitted to Contest #67

Draw The LineJust moments ago, the music drifting in through the open patio door was upbeat and happy. Now it is ominous and foreboding. It should have been a warning to the man coming in through the front door, but he is clueless. I slip behind the dining room door and watch him through the crack where it meets the wall. And I wait, as the puddle at my feet gets larger with every drip from my fingertips.  He places his briefcase in its usual spot by the stairs and heads to the kitchen. He doesn’t see me in...

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