Tag Archives: sad

Sometimes

Sometimes life forces your hand.

The pooling tears exploded through their levee. Rivers that followed the contours of her face ended in a sparkling shower onto the pillow she squeezed like her heart.

Sometimes life makes you choose.

“I don’t want to break up.”

Sometimes life makes you die a little bit.

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Victim of the Times

When I stepped out of the time machine, I was excited to see how much things had changed. When I had entered the time machine, things I didn’t understand scared me. I would act irrationally and violently. That’s why I had to travel through time. Maybe things would make sense now. I always believed that the future would be bright.

I swung the sack holding my things over my shoulder and held a thumb stretched out to the road.

A passing semi truck squealed to a stop. That was fast. The door flew open and a stout man hopped out onto the dirt beside the road.

“It’ll be good to have some company! I’ll take you out Atlanta-way if that’s where you’re headed.” He gestured for me to follow him.

I nodded and made my way to the truck. Once I had climbed in, the man turned the engine and pulled back onto the road.

The cab of the truck was grimy, but comfortable. Blankets, spent cigarettes, and leftover Chinese takeout was strewn about carelessly.

“So where exactly are you headed?” The driver asked.

My brain knew the words to say, but I was too entranced to answer. He held a small black box in his right hand which he waved around as he talked. The flat face of the box displayed a picture of a woman smiling and a digital clock showing the time of day.

“Excuse me sir,” I asked. “What is that thing in your hand?”

The man looked puzzled.

“This?” He held up the small black box. “This is my phone.”

The box confused me. Made me feel uncomfortable in a way that made my skin crawl. It was unnatural. What was this feeling? Was this the future?

A catatonic fear permeated my body, I could not shake the feeling of being lost.

The man reached over to put his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?”

It was a big mistake on his part.

I grabbed for the nearest object and stabbed it into his throat.

The man let go of the wheel and fumbled his fingers around his neck, trying to pull out the chopstick lodged into his windpipe. The blood made it too slippery to remove before we made impact with another car.

It was a head on collision. Luckily I had been in the larger vehicle. I survived. The truck driver and the family in the other car did not.

I was sentenced to 25 years to life. Maybe the next time I step out of the time machine things will make sense.

The future will be bright.

Friday Fictioneers- Her Collection

Photo courtesy of Sandra Crook

100 Words


Sasha fingered through her collection of driftwood, shells and carbonate rocks. With sudden anger, she swept the treasures off the table with a swift arm. They cracked and shattered on the floor.

I watched from the open doorway as she collapsed onto her knees and wept.

Since she was a girl, she saw magic in the world. It was hiding on the cusp of the Pacific.

Last night she had gone out to watch turtles hatch on the beach.

Last night she was pulled off the sand and into a stranger’s truck.

I could tell that the magic was gone.


Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers- Check out more takes on the photo prompt with the link below!