By Corissa Haury I feel his fingers grip mine for the last time, before we plunge into dreamless hibernation. Before we crawl into the hard-coated, white shells before us. Others stand around while I hold his hands, while I kiss his lips. His soft kiss, affectionate yet powerful, holds my mouth there, as if time suspends for our kiss the way it will…
By Corissa Haury Winter was on its way, but it was not yet present. It still felt like it could have been late autumn, when the cold doesn’t fall below 40 degrees and there is a damp stillness to the foggy air. One still put the seat warmer on when one got in the car, but it wouldn’t be the case…
By Corissa Haury She stood at the crossroads, where there were four stop signs. It was freezing. Her nose was numb. There were tiny frozen pieces of snow, ice, and her own frosty breath that framed her hood, closed as tight as she could manage without obscuring her vision. The sky was gray, flat. There was no active snow but for…
By Corissa Haury I can see the rectangular ship descending from just above the platform outside the entrance to the port. Its gleaming silver coat reflects some of the Sun’s luminescent, uncontrolled rays beaming through our solar system. The tainted glass on the ship’s bow indicates the cockpit. Its thrusters are on low. This is a class D civilian and cargo…
By Corissa Haury I am trembling with excitement and fear. I hold in my hands the last of my cash cards… The last of the money I need to leave. I have waited for over a year for this to happen. I finish closing the store as usual, knowing I will return tomorrow to work again. In my mind I plan…
I was there because I am the worst vegetarian of all time. I call myself a “baconetarian” every once in a while to crack a joke to friends when they hear me order pizza with bacon on it, and afterward I explain why I just can’t seem to give up that delicious, succulent bacon. Bacon’s the only thing that used to…