Thomas Auen

“If Only” by Thomas Auen

(CW/TW: contains elements of death, substance abuse, and emotional abuse)[Click]Is this thing working? Test, test, test. Yes, okay. Umm, right. Here goes nothing.So the doctor tells me I should record some of this shit. According to her, I’ll look back on these events with appreciation for my health improvements. I assume she asks patients to do this out of hubris for her work as a plastic surgeon. Likely, she wants us to recall how bad things were before her aiding entrance. Cue Superman theme here. I brought the idea up to my assigned...

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“The Haunted Hat of 205” by Thomas Auen

Submitted to Contest #145

(CW/TW: content of sensitive nature including HIV, the supernatural, and death mentioned)October 4, 2017It’s been nearly a year since I moved in. The hat’s gone. He hasn’t visited either. Three times the hat and he appeared, sometimes arriving separately and sometimes together. I feel as if I’ve lost something. Is it odd to consider losing that which may never have been here? I’ve been thinking of this more and more since their presumed departure.“They leave us,” he had told me, specifically referencing his hat. He felt the hat had left him,...

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“Day 547” by Thomas Auen

(Reader warning: this piece contains content involving disordered eating habits.)[In a flash like that of lightening, a central light spills down on a man. He stands before a large mirror with his body angled just askew to allow the audience to see him from behind though his front figure is depicted in the mirror’s reflection. At his side, there sits a small table topped by toiletry bottles. Onlookers catch the reflection of his body still bearing beads of water from a presumed recent shower. Based on his physique, one would guess he’s in hi...

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“Changing Horizons” by Thomas Auen

Submitted to Contest #143

TW: Drugs mention, verbal abuse. Breathe in. Pause. Breathe out. Pause. Conscientiously, I guide the rhythmic release of air. I seize this sensation of control by timing out each respiration. I cannot, however, control today’s atmospheric temperature.Summer heat bears down on my body. Don’t get me wrong, I relish the opportunity to be outdoors and away from the personal stressors of my indoor life. Yet, I also enjoy the occasional breeze breaking the intense, solar rays beating down on my exposed skin. It is late August, the final ...

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“Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.” by Thomas Auen

Submitted to Contest #142

Cold. With arms wrapped tight about my torso, I attempt to hide the shivers. But I ask myself in the silence of the waiting room, am I shivering from the cold or from nerves? Glancing down, I gawk at the gooseflesh. My eye catches the state of my appearance. At this, I ponder my choice of t-shirt. Wrinkled, a coffee stain near the waistline. When did that happen, I wonder. A sweatshirt would have been better. Or perhaps a more professional outfit to cut down this overwhelming sense of stigma?  Questions flood my mind. Am I sweating? W...

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“Breaking Bread” by Thomas Auen

Submitted to Contest #141

Every summer since turning six, Phil spent time with his grandmother on her Nebraska farm. The beginning of these pastoral seasons would send his mind dancing as he watched from the window of his parents’ sedan. The trek from Minneapolis took them down twists and turns as cornfields swallowed up the horizon while they inched farther from suburbia and into the rolling rural hills.  Once there, he become “nana’s” Philly, her sidekick and student. He would rise early with her to assist in the daily rituals. There were kitchen duties in t...

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“Belated” by Thomas Auen

Submitted to Contest #50

A sudden flick of the switch amid the darkness brought immediate illumination to the kitchen. Morning sun had yet to emerge as Mary glanced through the opposite window across the room. She walked toward the outdated Mr. Coffee and rummaged through the cabinets for two mugs. Such was the beginning to her morning ritual. After thirty years, she could practically perform the act unconsciously.  “Mary!” came a shout from the hall. “Where’re my socks? I left them right by the bed, so I’m sure you moved them. I need them. And it’s freezing ...

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