I’m sat on top a bed that is not mine in a communal cabin shared by humans I’ve never met. The door to my ‘Room 3’ single room dormitory is open, spilling into the shared living room, and I can’t determine whether I left it that way to appease and fit into the open community... Continue Reading →
You okay Linds? He asks. You look good. I just mean y'know, in life. You seem a little unsure, I guess, he pauses. Unsteady. We're sitting in my parents church parking lot: my head rested against the back of his passenger seat. The turtleneck of my black dress scratches at my neck, and I stretch... Continue Reading →
I still think about him, he says, the ash of his cigarette flaking off near my shoe. As we all do, I shrug, tired of the runaround. We all think of him. Every day probably. I don't. I shrug again - but it feels forced. Well however much then; we all do. I mean, I... Continue Reading →
It's 8:30-something AM and Riley and I are sitting in the dorm cafeteria before class. "There's this guy," he said that morning. "He looks like him." Oh yeah? I said, biting into a hardened bagel. Bradley had been dead for a couple of months. I made a face; shaking out the crumbs from my sweater.... Continue Reading →
Lindsey Hall Writes 