Sting (Part 5)

Bee stings are fatal only on rare occasion. Those with a severe allergy can be sent into anaphylactic shock. Swelling. Nausea. Vomiting. Shortness of breath. Confusion. A drop in blood pressure. Unconsciousness. When Winifred’s body is found, it is far too late for medical attention to be of any use. She was taken by a…

Sting (Part 4)

Winifred stares at him, from her station behind the computer. He’s wearing a black knit sweater, and is exactly what Winifred thinks she wants, though is in her mind too good for her. His nose tucked in the thickest of the large pile of books set before him. At the table where the sunlight filters…

Sting (Part 3)

Winifred meets Price at the haunted house, though he’d insisted on driving. The bus ride had been unpleasant, and now she stands shivering outside, grinding her teeth and rubbing the pocket of her sweater between her thumb and forefinger. “Winifred,” it comes from behind her and she jumps, ” oh sorry, I didn’t mean to…

Sting (Part 2)

Price had never signed up for a gym membership before. But it seemed a lot of things were changing for him. He looks up at the big sign above the counter: WINDS. Some oversized biceps in a polo shirt search for the paperwork. Glancing down, Price can tell this guy skips leg-day. “Here you go…

Sting (Part 1)

Winifred, Winnie to those who know her, does indeed work at the library. But today she walks the aisles of the bookstore. She finds security in owning a book, and not having to return it a week later. Winifred, though only twenty years old, dyes her hair gray. Today it drapes in a ponytail over…

Papers at the Café

A more or less fictional short story by Kim Lindquist   How much more stereotypical could I be? Half a chocolate croissant sits in its flakes on a plate next to my orange juice. I clack the end of my pen on the table. An open notebook before me, my left thumb runs up the…

John Tames: Part 8

When I was younger, my parents bought me a violin. Something about the benefits of learning to play a musical instrument. And I tried for awhile, I really did. Unfortunately, the whole ordeal was a bit disastrous. Many hours scraping against squealing strings. After a year, I could make it through “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”…

John Tames: Part 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6   I love math. The constant rules and definitive answers. I can always count on it. A math problem is a wonderful puzzle. It can be pulled apart and picked at. Rearranged until a solution emerges. And there’s always a buzz that comes…

A Knock on the Mirror

I was alone in the apartment. My roommates all went home for the holiday break. The moon was in the sky, and I’d just finished sitting through Chamber of Secrets on ABC. I had a whole four weeks until the new semester started, which meant no homework, which meant I could actually go to sleep…

John Tames: Part 6

Trees are so much better than people. They don’t lie. They don’t pretend to be something they’re not. They look like trees. They act like trees. They are trees. Trees don’t judge you. And they don’t let anyone tell them what to do. Each tree works for itself. It plants roots deep into the ground…

John Tames: Part 5

I wake up to a soft sizzle. There are still stars outside my window, and I don’t want to break out of my warm cacoon. I can hear my mom humming Jingle Bell Rock in the kitchen, and the cheddar aroma wafts its way into my room. I take a deep breath in through my…

Sarah Smith and the Heist

Sarah Smith wasn’t particularly special. Her plain stick hair hung around her pale face and dirt brown eyes. She worked the afternoon shift at the local grocery store. It was the kind of town where no one knows their neighbor. Kind of like the big city, minus the blinding lights and endless opportunities. When she…