Tommie Michele

“Bitter Rose of the Sea” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #130

Luke Reids would never, ever leave Rose. Could never, ever leave Rose. She drew him to her with unparalleled force, and he’d known from the first that the only force strong enough to rival hers was death itself. Even then, that separation would only be temporary.At least, that’s what Luke thought as he walked with her on his arm. Rose—short for Rosemary, although she hadn’t told anybody but him—was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Her name meant something about the sea, and about a rose. Luke could never remember exactly what, but if an...

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“Ash and Photographs” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #120

The dreams always ended with rain.Not water—water was a blessing.Not hail—hail left nothing but bruises.This rain was ash.Ash signaled burns. Ash stained skin. Ash left a permanent mark, no matter its source.Ash was her name.It hadn’t always been that way. The ash had left its mark on that part of her life, too.Shadows hid the room around her. She had been here many times, more times than she could count. The musty smell, the dust in the air, the fine grey powder coating her fingers. It felt like home.A single spotlight cut through the air o...

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“The Art of Paper Boats” by Tommie Michele

I know this is hopeless. Writing to you. It's been three months.But I can't let go.My friends dodge the subject by avoiding my gaze, looking at their feet. Mom says it's not healthy, that I should stop spending every waking second staring at that picture of your arms wrapped around me.I say I have a right to miss you.I've always been more than Addy to you—I've been your Addy. Every day, you made me feel special. You dropped everything and ran to scoop me up in your arms. I don't think I ever told you just how much that meant to me. I should’...

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“Maybe Someday” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #118

She visited them every night. Some might have labeled her a stalker. A night-watcher, a bum, a girl clueless to the ways of the world. But they did not. They didn’t even know she existed. They never saw her tear-streaked face outside their window while they ate dinner, bathed in golden light. And that might’ve been her favorite thing about them. She was eleven when she saw them for the first time. It was their happiness that struck her, drew her eye, pulled her in and never let go. They were like a whirlpool, she always thought. Irresistible...

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“With Four Words” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #117

She stumbled into the shop with eyes wider than the chasm between life and death.I could come up with a better metaphor, given time. The chasm between life and death is not as wide as many assume.I should know. I run this place.Some do not believe it exists. Some fear it. Some call it Purgatory.All are misguided.She stumbled into my Apothecary not long ago. I've been keeping an eye on her since she crossed the doorframe and the bell above rang out with a lonely tone. I remain silent, of course. Waiting for the clients to come to me is easier...

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“Fifty Broken Voicemails” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #115

The phone rings.And rings.And rings. I still my tapping foot and keep count. Five. Six. Seven.“You’ve reached Theodore Tiller. Sorry I wasn’t able to take your call. Leave your number and a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”Even over voicemail, even after the hundredth time I’ve heard those exact same words, his voice never fails to make my breath come just a little quicker.The phone beeps and I take a deep breath. I already have my message for him prepared.“Theo, please. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but just call me ...

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“Mirror, Mirror” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #101

Day 14: Entry 1  This is...what, my sixteenth plan in the course of two weeks? Maybe it’s the seventeenth. I’ve lost count, at this point.  It doesn’t matter what number it is, though, because I can feel it. This is the idea. This one is going to work.  A magic mirror. It sounded better in my head.  Here’s the idea: I’ll use my extensive engineering and technology skills to build a living, breathing mirror. A better Alexa, really. That extensive was sarcastic. I’m still a sophomore in college—a better phrase would ...

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“When the Colors Fade” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #99

I can’t tear my eyes away from the horizon. I’ve heard about the sunset all my life, but words can’t do it justice. The orange and pink illuminating wispy tendrils of clouds, the indigo and purple spreading down the sky, soothing the receding flames of the sun.  It’s beautiful. And I’m most definitely not supposed to be watching it. My name, Ebony—it fits me. Raven-black hair framing ivory skin, slim figure, but most of all, I’ve never seen colors as vibrant as this. Compared to the scene I’m glued to, my life has been shades of bla...

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“Part of the Family” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #98

I shouldn’t be here. It’s the stubborn thought that hasn’t left my mind for the past month.  One month since the family of my dreams caught a glimpse of me outside their window and invited me inside. Bram, Lori, and Nell. Bram, with his strong and gentle fatherly spirit. Lori, who’s made me dinner every single night. And Nell. With her auburn hair and sea-green eyes that make me feel like she can see right through me, with the shy smile that sends my heart racing.  I’ve been trying, I really have, but it’s become evident that ...

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“Dysfunctional Tales from Beyond the Grave” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #98

Before I tell this story, I should probably make one thing clear. I’m a ghost.  Not one of those translucent, floaty ones in Ghostbusters, or the cute little kid variation of Casper, but somewhere in between.  A completely invisible 20-something-year-old man. Well, I was twenty when I died. I’ve lost track of how many years it’s been. But that’s not relevant.  Now that we’ve got that important little tidbit taken care of, I can begin.  This one family has been showing up to my cemetery on December 30 of each year (th...

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“Broken Glass and New Beginnings” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #97

The window matches the rest of the house. Grimy, covered in years of dirt and memories that no amount of cleaning can make a dent in. I should know. I’ve tried. But soap can’t erase memories, not even from a window like this.  The hammer feels familiar in my hand. I hate the familiarity, actually—just another reminder of the life I’m trying to forget.  But today is demolition day. Demolition of this house, in preparation for a new restaurant, and demolition of my old life in preparation for the new. A clean slate. That’s a good...

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“Hole in my Heart” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #97

It’s the prettiest window I’ve ever seen. No different from the hundreds, maybe even thousands, I’ve already passed on my way here, but so beautiful nonetheless.  The window itself isn’t much to look at—four panes of glass, a thin coat of ice sticking to it, and a warm yellow glow coming from inside. I’ve been traveling the country all year to make it here, and it looks like I’m just in time for Christmas. The freezing wind doesn’t make me shiver—it passes right through me. Literally. But more on that later. I raise my knuckles to ...

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“The Sixth Window” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #97

This is the first time I’ve looked out of a window, instead of looking in.It’s the only thought that crosses my mind as I stare out at the midnight road. Cold drafts, hard pavers, dark alleys. The three things I’ve had the most experience with. But let me backtrack. Every week, I make the same nighttime journey. Six windows to visit, six memories to relive. It makes sense, and even if it’s a waste, it’s an escape from the freezing streets I call home.The first window is one of my favorites. Although it’s grown dirty over the past y...

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“Tower of Gold” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #97

He was average, and he knew it.Average name. Jake Brown.Average height. 5’9.Average job. Customer service. Well, that one might’ve been below average, but that was beside the point. The point was that Jake was average, and he would never be anything more. Never leave a mark in the world, never have a legacy to be proud to share with his children. Jake was average.Until he wasn’t.It started with a morning like any other: wake up at six, shower, eat, run a comb through his hair. Show up five minutes early to work, merge with the...

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