Tag Archives: catastrophe jones

What They Make Us

The last city. The only way out. “Please,” the man begged. “Help. There are kids.” She stood there, headache a mile wide, marveling how far she’d come. I’m not a bomb, anymore, she thinks. I won’t make a crater unless … Continue reading

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Good Day

What’s a good day? Is it when he wakes up calmly and takes the pills she leaves out for him? Is it when he waits for her, if he gets up before her? Is it when he doesn’t break a … Continue reading

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One Unforgiving Late February Morning

Squealing brakes. The unmistakable sound of steel on steel on glass on pavement. That was the thing about McGough — you didn’t really need an alarm clock. She rolled over in bed to find his side empty again, and got … Continue reading

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100 Words: The Last Time

This is the last time, he told himself. The last time I will pick her up. The last time I’ll mop up puke and wash blood from her hair and have to sober up because I can’t drink while I’m … Continue reading

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100 Words: It’s Called Cortical Blindness, Ms. Jones.

“It’s called cortical blindness, Ms. Jones.” The voice sounded tinny. “It is often temporary–” Relief washed over her, but then he kept talking. “–but in your case, considering how your cranial trauma results from not only from the baseball bat, … Continue reading

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