the Blank Space

Short Stories
Short Stories
The Others

     I feel him move beside me and my eyes open, inviting in rays of sunlight. My pillow smells like sleep and that’s where I’d much rather be. He shakes me and I groan, wrapping myself and the blankets into the fetal position while squinting my eyes closed.

     His pushes become more persistent and I give in, stretching out. I look at him and kick away the blankets. He just shakes his head and I know that he’s thinking something about me that only he could find amusing.

     He leaves the bed and I stare at the ceiling. I consider going back to sleep, but I know he’ll be back soon. Instead, I watch the ceiling fan spin as the smell of eggs and toast fill the room.

Short stories are a lot harder to write than poems...

More Obsessive Ramblings - This isn't a whole of anything. It's just a part of something I'll probably never finish. I may have really happened once upon a time. Did it? 

Red And Black N3794N - My first attempt to write about a completely different era. It reads more like a newspaper article than I would have hoped, and I may have to go back and rewrite the ending after I do more research. If you don't know what the title mean, google it.

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