Christa Leigh
Bio
Why are bio boxes so hard?
Achievements (1)
Stories (35)
Filter by community
Disarm
He descended the steps to the basement timidly, each footfall an echo of winter on cold concrete. As he reached for the doorknob, the distinct smell of wet dog hit him and he paused; scrunched his nose, thought twice about going in. He was allergic to dogs. He might sneeze.
By Christa Leigh4 years ago in Fiction
Nature of The Beast
The old man’s gaze was fixed on the fire, his profile glowing against the black of night. The skin on the side of his face stretched taut over his high cheekbone, the eye that I could see like an onyx marble reflecting the orange and yellow flames, his chin strong and reverent. His hair wasn’t long and thick in the way Native Americans look in National Geographic. It was modern and military cut, neon white in the contrast of darkness. The clothing he wore was indistinct, dark pants and a leather jacket. He wasn’t even sitting “Indian style”, but rather like a man who’s frame is large enough to cradle the universe- the stump beneath him a humble throne, callous-covered bare feet planted solidly on the ground, elbows on his knees. In his hands, he held a cup that offered steam to the smoke of the fire.
By Christa Leigh4 years ago in Fiction
Black Moon
He was born when the Sun wrestled Gemini and fiery Leo loomed on the horizon. The stars never promised him much, the way he saw it. Maybe they held the backdrop of the universe in place, or maybe they were random balls of gas floating around waiting to collide. Maybe they were the whispered secrets of the gods, complex codes for understanding the past and predicting the future, but he found that theory amusing, at best.
By Christa Leigh4 years ago in Fiction
Baby, I Get So Weak in the November Rain
I'd remember the title of "our song" even if it weren't written in the half-page love letter my high school boyfriend inscribed in my Sophomore yearbook. He'd graduated that year- 1994 -and unlike our less fortunate civilian teen counterparts, not only did we have to contend with graduation and uncertain matriculation- my family was moving back to the states. His was not.
By Christa Leigh5 years ago in Humans
Dragon Breath
In the midst of a recent conversation, I recognized a brand of exhaustion that I know all too well. It’s the way a woman breathes out when she’s had enough but she’s not allowed to quit; it’s the way her lungs suck in air but protest the entire time- as if the very organ she depends on to exchange oxygen for carbon dioxide has a mind of its own and is afraid that something she’s inhaled will be ignited by the spark in her belly and result in spontaneous combustion. Unaware of silent tension behind her every word, she fights to put together sentences that make her sound normal when what she really wants- what she really needs- is to scream at the universe...
By Christa Leigh5 years ago in Humans
Everest
You saw her in the distance, kissing the sky and creating her own weather. And your life was a boring cacophony of business meetings and whining kids, so you wondered about the climb. So you studied her. Stalked her, really. You prepared. You went to REI and bought gear, you read every word written about her. You planned your trip and waited for the moment you’d be able to pack your bags.
By Christa Leigh5 years ago in Humans
Girls Like You
It had been weeks since we’d touched each other. Which sucked, because of all the things that were wrong with our marriage, our ability to connect on a physical level had never been lacking. In a moment of complete and utter vulnerability, my husband came into the master bedroom I’d claimed as my own during our separation and asked me to dance.
By Christa Leigh5 years ago in Humans
