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[For Twelve Strings]  

When I feel the sleep paralysis coming on, I grip the sides of my bed. The room swirls around me, the space and white noise blurring and churning, and I open my mouth to cry out. I know I'll only be be able to muster(more)
For as long as she could remember, Vivian Mae Lim had to dream up fantasies to fall asleep. Soothing scenes to loosen her coiled mind as she drifted off. When she was a child she would imagine sleeping outside in the rain and burrowing under piles of soft, dry(more)
Lux's room was lily-white--the bed, the carpet, and the walls. Scarves and necklaces hung up according to color near the door, and on her desk was a row of six terrariums lined up from smallest to largest. Above her bed was a neon sign of her name, bolted to(more)
I am one who likes to return. To the places I've lived; the apartments and the houses, the neighborhoods and their cities. I turn these places over in my mind constantly, weighing them like stones in hands that keep changing shape.
(more)
"Trevor? I didn't realize that was you."

Emma closed her book but didn't put it in her purse. Across from her on the bus was a wiry man wearing a beanie and rolled up jeans that hugged the lean, bulging calves of a cyclist. He folded his arms(more)
Delilah felt Jane's presence before she saw her.

Before she found the room, Delilah wasn't one to believe in psychic vibrations. She wasn't a cynic, exactly -- she just never thought about such things. But on her walk home, she could feel the molecules in the air shift.(more)
I was somewhere between awake and asleep when Peter stumbled through the door. A romantic comedy was playing at low volume on the television as I mindlessly scrolled through clickbait, my movements seriously limited by the wool blanket I'd tightly swaddled myself in.
(more)
Sneaking into a high school dance by myself probably should have plummeted me to the lowest depths of my depression, but for some reason doing so almost had the opposite effect.

Getting past security--in this case, a wiry member of the student body with pockmarked skin and hair(more)
imaginary friend for sale

she's everything I wish I was
whatever that means to you

we must go our separate ways or (more)
Yesterday I woke up early to work out, but ended up just stretching because I had a headache. The night before, my boyfriend and I stayed up late drinking and playing music together and talked about the future. He'd been unsure about moving to LA recently, but felt inspired(more)
He put the same songs on every mix tape because they're good, solid.
I was never yours, but
I was never mine either.
During the late summer afternoon when the house is empty and the air is heavy like a blanket, Greta spends hours powdering and plucking and painting her face, every flick of the wrist a victory in maintenance, in correction, in discipline.
(more)
***Cut along the dotted lines***

Hypersexual perfectionist with burgeoning mood disorder seeks overly attentive doormat with abandonment issues
(more)
[For the "dagger" prompt]

"Dagger? Whadja do to get that name?"

My server,  "July," was a shapely and impossibly short woman with crunchy red hair and skin the pearly pink shade of a conch shell. She smiled anxiously as I took my time looking over the top o(more)