Renee Yancey

“Exploring New York ” by Renee Yancey

January 1st So we begin. This part of the once great city hasn't been touched since the war. As the radiation has cleared, it is safe to explore it for future habitation, if the population grows enough. No! These entries are just to write down what we find. Not to ponder about the unknown future. Unknowable, that is a better word.  So we set out, walking across the Manhattan bridge. New York, I always wanted to go here, never imagined it would be like this.  Only small bombs were exploded here, the war lost already. So we see some ...

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“Swinging ” by Renee Yancey

It is quiet, with only the sound of the creaking from the swing chains to break it. She sits on one. Her mom on the other one  The security lights from the convenience store across the street light up their faces. They aren't to be there after the park closes. It is the only place where they can talk privately and he won't hear. “We have to go, mom.” Her nod brings her hair forth and covers, for a minute, the newest bruises on her face. She is right. It is just how. “Grandma.” Her daughter answers the question reflected in her eyes. “I ...

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“The Last Selfie ” by Renee Yancey

The Last Selfie “Come on. One more.” She rolls her eyes. Her new husband has insisted on taking selfies everywhere. Their phone storage is getting filled up with them. They will be wonderful memories though.  She places her face next to his and they smile with the mountains behind them. It was seconds after the click of the camera that everything changed. Honeymooning on the Appalachian trail, hiking and camping in different places every night was an unusual choice but it fit them. They had met while hiking, after all.  They stand...

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“Seventeen Years ” by Renee Yancey

Submitted to Contest #241

It started with an accident. A loose hubcap hit her tire causing the car to go out of control. She hit a street sign, flipping it and pinning her. It caused her spleen to rupture not that she knew it then, just that she was hurt.  The whirl of the ambulance is barely heard as she is almost out by that time it arrives just ten minutes after the accident. She doesn't know it yet, but the accident is the least of her problems. The jaws of life free her. Strong capable hands lift her. She is stabilized and rushed to the hospital. Her parent...

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“Tornado!” by Renee Yancey

It is weird the things you remember. Being only five, you wouldn't think she would remember anything. Though such an event leaves an impression. Mid afternoon, they, her brother and herself, lay on the living room floor, eyes glued to Sesame Street. It was a strange still day, hot for April. Their dad had a friend over. The adults were talking in the dining room. It had a big picture window looking out over a backyard big enough to be called a field. The suburb was full of families, with the older kids just arriving home from school, a ...

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“The Last Hill” by Renee Yancey

Submitted to Contest #239

It is pleasant, the drive. With the warm spring air, the windows are partially open allowing the sweet warm air in. They aren't heading anywhere in particular, just a relaxing Sunday afternoon drive.  They decided to take a road they haven't traveled before. “Live a little,” he jokes,” while I can.” Gallows humor. Her husband of fifty years is dying of pancreatic cancer. This may be their last drive together.  Her smile is strained. They are blessed, she knows. Fifty years is a long time, just not long enough. “Yes,” she wipe...

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“Grief, The Final Act of Love” by Renee Yancey

Last Words “Listen,” her voice is but a whisper and her children lean closer to hear her, “this is important. Look in the…” Her eyes grow blank and her hand in her daughter’s, slack. “Mom?” Her cry is disbelieving. The hospice nurse shakes her head.  “I’m sorry.” “No!” Her brother takes her in his arms and they both weep.  The cancer had been aggressive. It came in hard and despite treatment, they all knew it would take her life. A month previous, they were called into the oncologist’s office. “It is time for hospice. I’m sorry.” ...

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“The Cynic ” by Renee Yancey

The Cynic She can't figure out how she ended up here. No way did she consent to this. Blind dates aren't something she does.  “Love,” a humorless laugh, “that is just something they use to sell flowers and cards. It isn't real.”  “Romeo and Juliet.” Her friend countered. “Right, look how that turned out.”  “Might as well give up, Zoe. Abby doesn't believe in love. Period.” Her sister knows her. While Beth was mooning over the boys, Abby was studying. She had great ambitions. Pre-med at Georgia State and then medica...

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“The 80's Called” by Renee Yancey

Submitted to Contest #236

She was dreaming. She has to be. There is no way this can be real. Just a dream about a time her parents lived in. That's it! She saw them earlier and they were talking about their high school days. She sighs in relief.  Might as well lean into it. She will wake up soon enough. Her eyes take in the high hair, the leg warmers, the puffy jackets, and blue eyeshadow.  “Girl,” she makes it two syllables, “what in heaven are you wearing?” Everyone looks. Unfortunately, the jukebox fell between songs right that moment.  She lo...

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“Greyhound ” by Renee Yancey

The bus is crowded. The crush of people was comforting. She could more easily be lost in the crowd. She slips in the seat, holding her bump against the intrusion of the elbow of the person beside her. “Excuse me.” the man mumbles. She simply nods before turning her face to the window. The bus starts and she watches, with relief, as her hometown starts to fade away. Never could she have ever imagined that she would be on a Greyhound bus, eight months pregnant. Then again, she couldn't imagine having to run away from her husband either. ...

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“Polar Night ” by Renee Yancey

Submitted to Contest #234

It wasn't obvious, not at first. The winter is always harsh, the night endless during the polar night. So, the fact that time had stopped wasn't known, not until the sun didn't rise.  They came out of their homes and searched for it. It was a date long marked on their mental calendar. After months of darkness, the raising again of the sun was a day of celebration. Usually. But it didn't come. “We must be off a day.” The mayor of the little village says. His people grumble. “Yah know that ain't true. It has been March 1st since for...

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“The Month of January ” by Renee Yancey

January 1st It begins. Not just a new year but a new me. Yes journal, this is the month I finally start writing that book. You know the one, the one that has lived, rent free, in my head for years. Yes, that one. It is time to put pen to paper and get it out. I will write every day. You, dear friend, will help keep me on track. You will remind me of what I am to be doing. Yes, each day, I will record my progress with you. Accountability, that is your job. Mine is simply to write. Let us begin. January 2nd Good morning journal. I have g...

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“Dying Sun ” by Renee Yancey

Submitted to Contest #232

It hasn't always been this way. The old ones talk about a time where the sun shone bright, warning the earth so it was hot a quarter of the year. They speak of a time where the grass was green and the plants grew outside. All this is unimaginable now. As long as anyone except the oldest among us, can remember, the plants have been grown in growing pods, lit by growing lamps. Natural light is rare. All are encouraged to be in it at least a half hour a day. Announcements are broadcast reminders of the importance of Vitamin D. Stepping out ...

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“Homeless to Homeowners ” by Renee Yancey

It didn't start out hopeful, or should I say, ended. Let me start at the beginning, with the fire. Mid December, a peaceful night interrupted by a banging on the door. The smell of smoke reached us at the same time. “Fire, there is a fire!” Our neighbor stands at the door in just his boxers. Behind him, on his side of the porch, flames shoot up from his open door. I have my phone in my hand. “Is everyone out?” I don't know where the unnatural calm comes from. “Yes.” The flames shoot higher. The sound they make, that hungry, growli...

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“The Cat” by Renee Yancey

“She really isn't a cat.” He says it like he would say the weather is sunny. His wife stares at him. “Are you alright?” Tim is staring at their cat, who lays cleaning herself, ignoring her strange furless owners. “She is an alien.” Nora’s laughs, uneasily. He has to be joking, right? “Good one, Tim.” “I am serious. Her eyes glow. I have seen it.” “Tim,” she touches his arm and feels how tight it is, “it is called night vision. Cats are predators. That is why.” He knows this. He has to know this. “Of course, that is part of her di...

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