Tag: blue-eyed man

  • 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 dish in frustration, when his hands don’t work the way he wants them to? Is…

  • 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 keeping her from killing herself, and it’s killing me. This is the last time, he…

  • Hide and Seek

    She woke in chains, only knowing so because of their rattle and weight. The room was night, oilblack and just as thick; the heaviness of the damp and the irons made everything just that much more suffocating. And her head hurt like a motherfucking trainwreck. “Who even uses chains?” she snorted, rolling her eyes. It…

  • 100 Words: To Drink Alone

    She went out the window one morning, when he went to get the paper. He’d established a routine and she watched it faithfully, followed it; it seemed he was less agitated when she did. All the same, she watched him stutter her name, watched him flinch from her nearness, watched him open bottle after bottle…

  • 100 Words: What It Meant

    She fell asleep in the bath again; waking as he pulled her from the cold water, wrapped her in a towel, cupped her face in his hands. He looked in her eyes (left, then right, then left again) — he shone the light against the navy of her irises, to see if they would tighten…