Fiction

“Honey, can you please  clean the kitchen?” His wife calls from the kitchen.  The man rolls his eyes, leaning forward in his chair to better see the monitor in front of him.  “Babe, I already did. You asked me earlier, remember?” He can hear her frustrated sigh from the other room.  “All you did was put the dirty dishes in the sink to soak.” “Yeah,” he replies. “I cleaned the kitchen.”  Footsteps pound down the hallway until they stop in the doorway. He doesn’t take his focus

My phone hasn’t made a sound in days. Not even a scam call. Not even a wrong number.  I keep it fully charged, the ringer on and set to...

Did I make the right choice?  I ask myself, looking down at them. No matter when or where I turn my gaze, blood soaks the earth. On open...