Saturday Story: Burning Bridges

Lisa stared at her phone. She willed the notification light to flicker at her, and several times she thought she spotted a glimmer of green at the top left corner of her screen. But no. Nothing. 

Short Story Sunday: Blank Spaces

It doesn't take much for you to think about what was. Today, it's the way the bag of shopping cuts into your shoulder - a weekend's worth of groceries, with some extras you don't need, just because you feel like it. A week ago, it was the way the wind stroked the quadrant of lavender that had sprung up at the start of the season. The way it moved made you think of when she was there.