short-story
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Lately life feels heavy. Things are not “great again” whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, more like “worse than ever”. Since laughter is good medicine, I thought I’d write about a happier time. Hard to believe that the pandemic could ever be referred to as a “happier time.” But for me, in many…
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Over time my sales listings dwindled and the apartment was looking much less cluttered. Early one beautiful Sunday morning, I looked around and saw the large plate glass mirror that had been mounted on the wall for my makeup station. Since pandemic, I’d had it removed, but it had been leaning against a wall since,…
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This morning I woke up from a dream so powerful that it continued running through my mind as I got out of bed. In the dream, I had gone to a large modern estate made of clean cut light slab marble, almost like a museum or institutional setting, but without any windows. I was there…
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In a hotel suite, Maya, an elderly woman, awaits breakfast while being cared for by Jenny. As the morning unfolds, Jenny shares lighthearted moments with a hotel porter named Jay, who brings breakfast. The interaction highlights Maya’s frailty and longing for connection amid Jenny’s internal struggle with her own sacrificed life.
Lost Art of Mystery 