by SA Healey | Feb 2, 2017 | Short Stories
We were each to come separately. We had to be smart. Cautious. Cover our tracks. Travel as far as the money would take us. Away from the horrors of the past. The location was perfect, a tourist’s seventh heaven—presently cloaked in the kind of night...
by SA Healey | Nov 9, 2015 | Short Stories
The last time we spoke—or rather, when I jabbed at my keyboard with my heart in my throat, as he went from annoyed to ambivalent to appeasing in the blink of a cursor—that’s when I knew it was nothing. It, meaning us. It, meaning me. I wept about it, still, when I was...
by SA Healey | Feb 27, 2014 | Short Stories
The next year passed…uneventfully. I whittled away the hours, married to a job I hated, while my limited blocks of playtime lent themselves to bar hopping and frog kissing. All I had to show for it was a borderline anxiety disorder, an occasional hangover, and a...
by SA Healey | Feb 6, 2014 | Short Stories
It was summertime. The sky flashed its happy-go-lucky smile, yet my mood was sullen. Weird. He was due to arrive at any moment. After all, it was a momentous occasion—our fourth anniversary as a couple. We’d been together since I was 18. We didn’t exactly fit...