I had a sister once. Three years younger than me, with long, skinny arms and legs, and eyes greener than pine needles.
Doug. I found the tennis ball. I know you were trying to hide it from me. I don't know why you would do that. Weren't we friends?
When Nate came back as a toaster, panic was his first response.
The first time I met my brother, I was lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood.
This time it was a puzzle piece. I watched, fascinated, as its edges began to curl in the crackling oil.
WANTED: Exact physical double. Long lost twin or unlikely genetic experiment preferred.
This story was my submission for round ten of NPR’s Three-Minute Fiction contest. The prompt was to tell a story in the form of a voicemail message.
When I stumble out the door of my apartment into the mid-day glare, the sun feels closer than it has ever been...
Jake hefted the bag and pushed his way through a wall of vines and into the clearing.