Ivy Three grows up in a five-thousand-person space station called The Exodus. The ship orbits two hundred and fifty-four miles above planet Earth. It’s a safe space, providing a stable life, a place full of windows where electric trains run, crops sprout from well-organized fields, and workers walk in lines like ants in a colony. Ivy sleeps ...

It sat on a lot. On a concrete foundation poured years and years ago, mazes of cement like outlines for a future. Stakes of iron held it together, and puzzles of timber erected a roof. Windowpanes witnessed Christmas mornings, marine-layered springs, fairy summers, and crisp falls. This grand model wore stains from nail polish and ...

Crystalline currents pirouette feet from sand glossed with sea foam. Waves roll with eternal dedication, a lifetime commitment to shoreline glazing. In their deep mineral burrows, crabs dimple the sand with each swell of retreat. Porous cliffs stand tall against winds. Squalls. Time. They cast dawn shadows and bask in evening gold. Plants succulent with ...

The world stands still. Always for a moment. Father Time reckons with mortality. Cries for reform echo across Mother Earth, words like ripples matured into swells. A wave of change comes swooshing. Rolling in like the heat of tide. A wash of the old for golden grains of new. Promise on the horizon. Hope is ...

I’m always stopping short, butting against the glass. I know if I made a fist, a proper fist, and swing, I could shatter it. But every time, I only end up with my fingers leaving prints and streaks as I watch, afraid to be seen. It’s only my careful reflection that needs to be known. ...

The potbellied case had a glass door and the brass pendulum was visible as it swung, keeping constant rhythmic time. Roman numerals and hands of shining brass graced the face of the clock. Standing at almost eight feet tall, Evelyn stepped back to view the delicate carvings of leaves across the top.

I am the definition of insanity and a god of abandoned dreams. Glory, I’ve left behind. I extend my hands and roll my stone up mountains of good intentions and career paths. I have yet to reach the top of any of them. I’m finished. I fall to my knees and say, “I give up.” ...

Casey stuck her tongue out in concentration, unwilling to take her eyes off the screen. A poke in her ribs had her recoiling from the touch, but she refused to give into Jonas’ distraction tactic.  “Keep your hands to yourself,” she told him.  As her character rounded a sharp corner on the race track, she ...

The path narrowed as she ran; her lungs burned with each breath. Then, up ahead, a steep incline appeared. She knew the area well enough and remembered there was a small, dark cave to take cover. With little time left for escape, Petra slid down the hill to the cave. Crouching in the darkest corner, ...

Trigger Warning: Mentions of death and vague references to suicide. If you see my bones, speak to them gently. I took care to lay them down in the moss in that place I always ran to. I shouldn’t have done that, right? But running was all anyone ever taught me to do.  Between the log ...