Me: Sock. Blue, with hedgehogs printed all over and purple trim around the ankle. Currently living in one-sock accommodations in a dryer lint trap. There’s only one of me, but I’m working on growing and becoming a more complete version of myself. I’m in good shape, no holes, and I have nice color and shape.
You: Running shoes slung over telephone wire, any label. I don’t care what you look like, but I want to meet someone with a sense of adventure, someone who’s not afraid to take a leap, you know? Must have sturdy laces.
I think we could really go places.
The officers looked at each other in dismay.
“How are we going to contain her? Everything she touches turns to jellybeans.”
Herman took a deep breath, looked into his beloved’s eyes, and swallowed the dragonfly. “It is between us now,” he said.
“When the Fade happened, we started building up. Trying to get closer to the – do you have a light? Thanks. Like that. I’ll never get used to that. Cold fire. Just white and grey where the flame should burn yellow. Building up. We thought being closer to the sun would bring back the colors. Maybe it should have, I don’t know. But the Fade kept fading, and everything looks murky higher up. A newsprint planet. Now shadow is the same as color, and maybe that’s fading too. One day we’ll be flat white. Just noise in fog.”
A very short Portland horror story.
Atticus shrieked at his cowering assistant, who clung desperately to the listing, creaking remains of Hawthorne Bridge, inches from the muscular and deadly tentacle crushing the metal. “You fool, you’ve doomed us all! I could have saved the city if only you’d brought a vegan sacrificial virgin. The monster is gluten free! GLUTEN FREE!”