Hannah Dodero
Stories (2)
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April Mourning
You’re sprinting through a field, your bare feet soaked in blood. Flesh being exposed from the vines and thistles that snag your nightgown almost as if their existence is to keep you shackled. Imma had told you that they were coming for Denmark next but she didn’t know when. Your family packed to-go bags just in case and everyone went about their daily life, trying not to raise any red flags. The sun had risen and fallen to April when you heard them coming. The city quivered and crowds gathered in the streets. Imma had heard the horror stories and murmurs around town about what they had done in Germany and Poland.
By Hannah Dodero4 years ago in Fiction
Something Fun
The murmurs of the crowd muddled and swirled with my whiskey as I sat on my stool. The summer air created a musk in the bar as people were crowded together sharing their drinks. I took the last sip from my glass and glanced around the bar before noticing that the bartender, Greg, was trying to ask me something. I spun on my barstool to face him, “I’m sorry, I’m deaf,” I signed to Greg.
By Hannah Dodero4 years ago in Fiction
