Break From Reality. Daily.
This story is by Loretta Martin and was part of our 2016 Winter Writing Contest. You can find all the Winter Writing Contest stories here. History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.—Maya Angelou After six months at my new job, I hadn’t yet socialized…
Amber removed her key and shut the front door. She left her car in the driveway in case Dorian wanted to grab dinner out. The welcome scent of charcoal suggested otherwise. Relieved, she smiled. Dorian had the grill going.
“Honey, I’m home” she called, tossing briefcase, purse and keys onto the entry table. Her day had been hellish, spent putting out one corporate brushfire after another. She hadn’t had time for lunch or time to read Dorian’s texts.
The following story is by guest contributor Loretta Martin. Loretta is an editor who lives in suburban Chicago, IL, with her artist husband Phil. Her short-short story “The Delivery” appears in Every Writer. She has published lifestyle articles in print and online. A former piano major, she occasionally proofreads classical music scores, impersonates a gardener, and…
