The sun didn’t rise this morning with its golden warmth like yesterday. Instead, gray light seeped from the horizon like blood pools from a corpse. Brad, awake, watched as the cold light slowly illuminated the faces of his shivering girls — huddled between him and Chelsea. Adam didn’t sleep much either. Shane’s lungs had inhaled the ash from the air all night. He spent most of the night coughing on the other side of the roof, trying not to wake anyone. Shane was already prone to pneumonia, and each breath he took burned in his lungs. His throat and vocal cords were raw. Adam caught his gaze, Shane just smiled a peaceful closed smile. Seeming to say, ‘I’ll be fine, son.’ Adam didn’t believe him, but sympathetically smiled back. Adam went over to his dad. He removed his sock and the makeshift plastic wrap to reveal a purple swollen ankle. Adam began to rub his dad’s feet gently. Something Shane always requested when Andrew was growing up. It had been a while since he’d ...
A collection of short stories, articles and poetry. Stories: Though I pull inspiration from my life, the connection is loose. I hope my stories can be universally applicable, entertaining and therapeutic. Articles: Often about other stories. Sometimes published and syndicated in magazines ... but if not, It's fun to have a place where I can share my thoughts anyway.