Trauma processing Stories

Scrolling for spirals to make herself feel better, Madam reached for her tumbler of scotch and tipped back another swig. Nothing was really satisfying, and she felt more depressed and empty than was healthy to feel. She didn’t want to go through the whole bottle, and she hated having flashbacks this bad, it happened every year during this month - her month. Memories of when it was good with someone who wasn’t around anymo...

For about two years after I'd first met Lucianna, my life was better than it had ever been. We still didn't live together, but we visited one another regularly. We talked, we made love, we cooked for one another in the nude (save aprons, since nipple burns are no fun), and we watched movies together while she regaled me on her artistic interpretations of them. My life was far richer for having her in it. One day, though,...

The air had a liminal edge to it, like the smell of petrichor, or the bite of a crisp wind heralding a new season. The urgency of night slowly fading with the impending sunrise was like the ticking of an explosive hidden somewhere in the dark cloudy curtain of the sky. Paolo and Enrique were walking hand in hand just chatting and enjoying the walk and each other’s company. Paolo was young, scruffy, with a wiry, short body...