Wanderers
December 8, 2014Short Story by Douglas Cole
Everywhere I went, the hatch on the top of my head was flapping open and my spirit was joyriding.
Everywhere I went, the hatch on the top of my head was flapping open and my spirit was joyriding.
I was barreling straight into the maelstrom at 75 miles an hour.
I developed my own online platform—until six months in, I felt as if I’d swallowed poison.
The nurse's answer underscored the futility I feared: 'It’s all hocus-pocus.'
Creating a space where people feel safe and cosseted is truly an art.
I could still hear the movie voices circling at the bottom of the staircase like lost and scared children in a forest.
I’m the office girl, there for aesthetics. I entertain.