Tag: cat 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 I mean to. “Please,” he wept, pressing a hand against the barrier she held. “I…

  • 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…

  • 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 up, eyes wide, heart in her throat, all sudden and clutching. Dragging on a semblance…

  • 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…

  • 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, but also the powers you exhibighzzzzzzzzshhhhhhhhhk–*” She listened to the loudspeaker fall to the floor…