Break From Reality. Daily.
This story is by G. Sanders and was part of our 2022 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here. He sat in the meadow and watched butterflies flirt with daisies. He lay in the grass and stretched out, breathing in so deeply his chest expanded and his little belly caved…
I’m back again.
In that stupid plastic chair. Under those heinous fluorescent lights. Drinking copper-flavored fountain water. Eating a doughnut ten other people touched. Listening to those ten other people drone on about their lives. Watching them blow snot into their tissues and then use that same tissue to dry their eyes.
When I first started coming to these meetings, I liked to think I was so much better than all of them, the sniveling messes. They were pathetic.
But that voice on my shoulder whispered the truth behind my dry eyes. I was a monster wearing the skin of an objectively attractive twenty-four-year-old. I was pathetic.
This story is by G. Sanders and was part of our 2021 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here. My child, let me tell you of freedom. Let me tell you of your home and how you came to be here. Let me tell you how to find peace…
