Paris Giles
Bio
In a practical move, I studied journalism and have written mostly editorial stuff, but I love storytelling in all its forms. I have a special passion for the way we relate to one another and for the beauty that exists in the dark parts.
Stories (9)
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The Perfect Pair
The landing wasn’t exactly soft, but, honestly, it could’ve been worse. My grip had been getting steadily and scarily less secure all night. It was that last spin around the floor that really did the trick. She never could resist an R&B throwback. I managed to hold on a bit longer, but I finally let go in the bathroom stall. Ironically, it was as still as she’d been all night. I got tangled in her hair and bobbed there for a while before falling to her sleeve and getting knocked into the graffiti-covered door and landing with a splash into a disgusting puddle.
By Paris Giles2 years ago in Fiction
A Trip to the DDD
"Let's form two lines, please!" The worker's voice bellowed across the Department of Dead Dreams. "Artists and musicians to the left. Entrepreneurs on the right." The bodies in the dim, crowded space shuffled. The worker focused on him. "Hon?" He stepped up to the glass and handed over his form. "You want to take the cash payout or the trade-in?"
By Paris Giles3 years ago in Fiction
At Last
Aside from a group of teenagers gossiping and giggling in a corner booth, and the septuagenarian reading a well-worn book a few stools away, it was just she and I. It’d been about a month since I started coming a few days a week, always during the lunch rush. I’d stand outside and watch through the dusty window to see what section she was in that day, then I’d go in and request an out-the-way table in a different section. The thought of speaking to her caused my chest to tighten and my armpits to sweat, but I’d watch. I’d order a club sandwich or steak and eggs, or whatever, and I’d watch her.
By Paris Giles4 years ago in Fiction
Exposed
The website had stayed open in her browser among the other tabs for weeks – watching, waiting, taunting. She’d accidentally click on it while trying to find that sale for such-and-such or that article about so-and-so, and she’d linger on it for a while before dismissing the idea and moving on, careful not to actually hit the little X, though. Her friend had sent her the link in an email. Subject line: “YES! THIS!! NOW!!!” The link took her to an online writers’ community called Platform, specifically, to a page for a challenge. The grand prize was $10,000, and the task was to write 2,000 words on the ways in which she’d struggled to love her body and how, even if the pace was two steps forward and one back, she was moving toward a positive body image.
By Paris Giles4 years ago in Fiction
