Cafe Aphra: An Online Community for Writers

            Everyone has secrets.             But none of them are as creative as mine. The room is cold, my breath pluming. Clear, hard ice glazes the windowpanes, distorting the early morning light. The painted walls are chipping, leaving flakes of light blue on the hardwood floor. I pick them up whenever I see them – I need my workspace clean.             As I sit on the wooden chair, I look at the metal tree in the center of the room. It shines brilliantly in the sunlight. I’ve put more than two hundred hours into this. I think it’s the best piece I’ve ever created – the tree that represents life with death at its center.             The shining roots are spread across the floor. One is wrapped around the leg of my chair as if it is trying to reach for the life within me.             I wonder what they would say if they saw me now.             Tick…tick…tick…                       My eyes are drawn to the clock embedded in her chest. The gol

I watched him run. I smiled for the first time in years. It was a rarity, to see him. He didn’t often show up, and when he did it wasn’t for very long. This was the first time he’d ran. Soon, he’d be gone again. So I enjoyed what little time we had. He ran around the small room, touching everything as he passed. It was like a game, and when he missed the bed he stopped and made sure to hit it harder. His eyes were bright when he looked at me. I think he noticed my smile. His lips curled into one as well. Coming closer, he patted my hand. The nurse pulled away, knowing she had my attention. I sighed. She counted out several pills from a bottle, keeping up with a daily checklist. “He was running this time,” I said, my stringy voice trailing. The nurse looked up from her cupped palm and raised an eyebrow. “Was he?” She put down an extra pill. “You let me know if he comes back, alright?” she asked. I wouldn’t. The medicine was placed to my right with a glass of water. I only took tw

The millenium came and went without a whimper; without a bang. Satellites stayed in their orbits. Planes continued to take off and land. Rivers still flowed to their oceans. Domes and steeples continued to stand. The sun set in Maracaibo while it rose on the beach at Da Nang. The Markets closed for the weekend but they opened on Monday as planned. Jesus did not bring the Rapture. Satan did not ope the Gates of Hell. I missed my train to Omaha. Other than that things went fairly well. By J. Craig Hill