dreamszilla

Enzo loves Miranda and wants to have a child with her, but there is a terrible secret in her past. Image generated with OpenAI Enzo knew he should put the picture down. The water was off; Miranda was done showering. She'd come back into their bedroom any second. But he couldn't get himself to change his position: lying naked atop the covers, holding the framed photo of the baby to his face. The chin - a little pinched, almost cleft - was Miranda's. The brown eyes and dark hair must have come from the ex. The joy in the kid's face, the skin stretched by mirth, was universal - some little fire we're born with, sustaining us as long as it can. The bathroom door clicked, and Enzo thrust the picture back to its new place on the bedside table. If Miranda noticed, she didn't say anything - just walked slowly towards Enzo, completely naked. He appreciated this habit of hers, of showering before sex, of strutting so he could see all of her: the straight blo...

A cartoonist sees his estranged mother on a train, and reflects on the unusual calamities that drove his family apart. Image generated with OpenAI I was reading the Advocate, and it was all about The Reaper . The Reaper - the wind that comes across the lake in the winter, gathering speed and ice before it whips through the streets of Landreth, my home town. From December to March it is a brutal thing. It kills people, older people mainly, in the poorer areas like Greek Fields and Labone, people who cannot afford enough heat to see them through to spring. It was January and according to the figures ninety-six had died so far, and there would be more. If you were poor, you just prayed for it to stop. That was what I was reading about when I saw her. I was on the four-ten from Smartwater, due into Landreth South at six-forty-two. I had been in Smartwater for a meeting with Parax Publications, the people who publish my work. I draw and write comic-strips. If I am known at al...

A recently retired middle school dean is reminded of one of her most difficult students when he sends her a Facebook friend request. Image generated with OpenAI Jill Klein carefully mounted and framed her retirement gift from forty years as a Dean at a middle school in Connecticut. She gently tucked the edges of the embroidered fabric into the casing. On it was an embroidered, "Thank You Dean Klein for Forty Years of Caring," and embroidered names of this year's class, each signature the handiwork of this year's students. She gingerly hung it on the wall next to her twenty-fifth anniversary certificate. Suddenly, she felt abjectly alone. There would be no more gifts. She was retired now. She closed her eyes. Ian Brown-Sumpter picked up his four-year-old son and tossed him in the air. The child giggled and squealed. He brushed his grey-tinged curls from his forehead and answered his wife about what he wanted for dinner: "Mozzarella pizza, please....

Meredith's relationship with Philip is progressing, but she has hidden a big secret from him. Image generated with OpenAI The evening had been ideal, Meredith thought. Dinner at the new restaurant, Torino, in a private room hung with landscapes of the Italian countryside, uplighted by antique wall sconces. The walls were painted deep orange, with a rich texture like terry cloth. Philip had worn his gray silk shirt and silver shantung necktie, and he and the waiter had urged her to order both a cheese plate and a dessert, chocolate hazelnut tartuffo garnished with raisins wrapped in lemon leaves. The waiter, really Italian from Italy, complimented her on knowing that she should drink espresso, not cappuccino, after dinner. Philip held her free hand while she drank, and although it might have been correct to toss the espresso back quickly, she pecked like a bird at a rain puddle to make the experience last longer. Back at her apartment, she relaxed on the couch while P...