Elevator ride,
Silent but for my loud sneeze—
Avoiding all eyes.
About the Creator
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More stories from Derek Dillinger and writers in Poets and other communities.
Glimmerhope
Marie sat on the cold, concrete steps of her apartment building, her face buried in her hands. The weight of the world was too much. She'd lost her job, her relationship was falling apart, and her debts were piling up. Hopelessness enveloped her like a dark cloud.
By Derek Dillinger2 years ago in Fiction
Affection and Healing for Yourself
During the night of the last quarter moon, I gathered my ritual supplies. I carefully handled the chunk of black tourmaline that would protect me from your overall negative and narcissistic energy. I carefully walked the house with my stick of selenite in hand, asking the universe to cleanse our working space.
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