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Te Iubesc
Thrice you’ve texted in the years since you’ve passed, the same curt message: E mama. Sunt o pisica de piatră. Te rog, vino la Cimitirul Eternitatea în următoarea luna albastră. Te iubesc. Always during blue moons. Always from random Romanian numbers.
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The Last Dance
A shiver like a familiar touch spreads across Charles’ shoulder — in the place where she had always touched him. He glances right, and the space beside him on the bed is empty. Still empty. He takes a breath, slow and deep, fills his chest.
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When One Loves the Fae
Theodore loved faeries, and so I loved him. Not because he loved faeries—obviously, they weren’t real—but because of what loving something meant to him: devotion, adventure, borderline obsession. To the rest of the world, he was a typical college dropout: academically unmotivated, easily distracted. A never-man.
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No More Running
Mom said we weren’t running away—that was a lie. She drove, the car devouring the winding grey river pavement stretching out before us. The surrounding mountains swelled wider and higher as we went, sheltering peaks blanketed by a vast quilt, tattered and aflame with all the colors of early autumn.
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Your Call
Your call surprised me. Your proposal to meet again after these three long years apart. A rendezvous at my old high school, a place so memory-stained from our time together that while pacing and anxious, awaiting your arrival, I trip over more ghosts of our youth than I can count.
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Joshua Stavick 