Maloree Powers
Bio
I am a hairdresser with half of a Bachelor’s degree in English Creative Writing— writing is my true passion and I am planning on going on and finishing my degree to eventually be able to write a short-story anthology book.
Stories (4)
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Fucking Meg Ryan
I slammed my bed back into the wall, only to have it flop back down. My face felt like I had been laying on cement in July and hurried to push it back into the wall, making sure it stayed. I grabbed Floozy and put her on my beanbag chair, her meows growing louder as I ran around my apartment with such intensity that sweat beaded on my lower back. The phone shrieked from the wall, the spiral cord twisted into one giant knot around itself. I grabbed it off the hook as I went to open the fridge, leaning away from it with my entire weight, which caused the door to unstick with the sound of a vacuum releasing someone's stomach. I stumbled back, ripping the phone out of the wall.
By Maloree Powers4 years ago in Fiction
American Spirits
I squinted, trying to see through not only the darkness but the tendrils of cigarette smoke as well that filled the crowded club. I had my arm snaked around the hips of Claudine, a girl that I had met two weeks before in this same club, as she grinded them against my own. Lime and turquoise lights bounced off of her practically white hair, which was frizzy and crazy from all the dancing. She licked her lips like they had sugar covering them and pulled at my neck until my ear was level with her mouth. Her breath smelled like the American Spirit yellows that seemed to be glued between her pouty lips every time I was around her. I found her smoking disgusting, but her body was heavenly. She whispered something in my ear that I couldn’t make out over the EDM that rattled my skull. I looked blankly at her, half trying to figure out what she said, half trying to see if she would say it again. She repeated herself louder, shouting into my ear.
By Maloree Powers4 years ago in Fiction
Caulfield
The hum of conversation reverberated from the lofty ceilings of the wide corridors. I paced, leaning from heel to toe outside of the door-- slightly ajar but not opened enough for anyone to notice me sweating bullets and taking sharp breaths while I leaned against the wall. My knuckles were white, balled into a fist around the leather strap of my bag. The girl meant to be showing me where I was supposed to go tapped her foot in annoyance before leaving me outside to fend for myself. Glossy mary-janes met with charcoal knee socks and glinted in the light from the tall, arched windows lining the hall. Crisp button-downs were tucked into navy plaid, everyone blending into a sea of typical schoolgirl uniforms. My schedule was crunched in the hand hanging by my side and with a deep breath, I blinked rapidly until my vision became vingetted. I shakily pushed forward as the oak door opened completely. The classroom looked more like a college lecture hall than anything, and I assumed it was the insane amounts of money the affluent parents funneled into this school, hoping it’d make their daughters more successful one day.
By Maloree Powers4 years ago in Fiction
Sedona
“That’ll be fifteen eighty-six.” I passed a crumpled twenty over the counter to the cashier girl, grabbed my cloves, and mumbled under my breath to keep the change. The bell on the door twinkled a goodbye as I left butt-fuck nowhere for good. I saw the girl wave behind my back in the reflection of the glass door, but I didn’t care enough to turn around and return it.
By Maloree Powers4 years ago in Fiction
