Zinnia Hansen

“Mixed Metaphors” by Zinnia Hansen

A light mist was pouring in off the Caspian sea. The air outside my window smelled like salt. I closed my click, sighing into the dark as I pulled on a yellow, wide-legged, vinyl jumpsuit. It was museum quality, a molecular recreation of something an obscure rock star had worn in the late 20th century. It’d cost me a week’s allowance. I ran a matching stick of lip-stain over my mouth, smirking into the mirror. The door to my room slid open. I grimaced at the soft buzzing noise it made as it shut behind me. My parents were asleep, and I doubt...

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“Faith, Untranslated ” by Zinnia Hansen

Submitted to Contest #81

The shade grew with the sun. Under the big thick leaves, it became something solid. The line between insistent energy and gentle dark turned bold. I lay with her on the grass, exhausted. Dry tears hung in my eyes like long evaporated dew. She held my hand, squeezing it tight. We didn't want to look at the sun. We didn't want to move into the shade. We wanted to be free.She still wore a sweater, despite the heat. It had been cold that morning. But the bright afternoon sun had burned away the fragile cool. We had lingered until the hours and c...

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“Typecast ” by Zinnia Hansen

Submitted to Contest #69

Suffocating in the stiff silence of the fish course, I blurted it out. “I finally decided on a major.” “Oh yes? What is it going to be? Economics, Pre-Law... Please don’t tell me you decided to go for History. Useless subject.” My father looked up from his halibut. “Undergrad is your time to experiment, but I hope you’re preparing for grad school. I want to be sure I am leaving the company to someone at least partially competent."“Theater.”  My mother pursed her lips, setting down both her knife and her fork. “Theater.” She re...

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“Her Constellations ” by Zinnia Hansen

Submitted to Contest #68

The light was soft, painfully soft. The exquisite gold of the sunrise muffled our passion. I reached for her hand, but she pulled away, regarding her own reflection in the lake with clinical poise. I understood then, in the smallness of that single wordless movement, how I chafed her. My human smile, my human lips, my desperation; she ached for the clean emotions of love and hate. Our relationship was filthy and confusing.  We sat on the edge of a round lake, surrounded by tall pines and implicit shapes veiled by the thick summer air....

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“Here Comes the Sun ” by Zinnia Hansen

Submitted to Contest #67

Mina Shi sold seafood from all over the galaxy. The price depended on the distance an item had traveled and its availability. Mina specialized in the exotic, but she sold everything from the small purple barnacles found on every shore of Ee-ha, to rare earthen Tuna. She rose early each evening to unload her wares, carefully positioning her more flashy specimens so their scales or shells reflected the bright white light of Ee-ha’s extraordinary moon.   As she waited for the market to fill up, the silent heat of twilight would diss...

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