pinkelephant is a member of Short stories - Spherical Scriptings and WMG.
The man slid a parcel onto her lap. When she didn’t respond, he gently folded pack the paper to show her the silver fish. “This one swam here all the way from California…”
I stand on the frigid grass / and I look at the leaves with their silvered underbellies / in the wintry dawn.
Her image appeared like a beheaded Juno in the mirror. Her body looked soft, incongruously so. Flesh that would split at the slightest pressure.
I found myself pressed against the front door, straining to make out the black glitter of water. I could hear it creep up over the verge and across the open field…
It was in Mrs. McCall’s kitchen that I came face to face with my criminal tendencies.
The swimming pool. / Pristine, chlorinated blue / And just us two.