Break From Reality. Daily.
Time’s measured in meals, in solitary yard breaks, in the lights flicking on and off. Hamish inhales the meat and gravy in the cage opposite mine. His choking pulls me away from staring at my usual dry biscuits. I pad closer to the bars, gauging whether to call for help while he hacks; my lips…
This story is by Tilda Wolf and was part of our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here. Arthur stood in Amelia’s kitchen, holding up the coffee pot with a smile that made her sixty-five-year-old heart skip like it did when they were eighteen. She leaned against the worktop, watching…
This story is by Tilda Wolf and was part of our 2024 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here. Disobedience doesn’t come naturally, but it wouldn’t, the way I was raised. With moments to decide whether to stay or jump out of the window, I choose the window. Shove in my…
