The skinny cat slinks through damp alleyways with hunger in her eyes, desperation sharpening her senses to a degree that she never thought possible. She’s found freedom in starvation, purpose in the chase, salvation in the feeling of blood between her teeth.
She will never be a house pet again.
Ethan Noll writes short stories and poems. He hopes to write something longer someday.
The pistol tucked in my waistband is a constant reminder of my vulnerability, the reason that I can never feel safe.
Sometimes I forget it’s there. Sometimes everything feels normal. But then I remember all at once: the gun, the people I’ve hurt, and the retribution that’s sure to come.
Ethan Noll writes short stories and poems. He hopes to have as many published as possible.
“I’ll never forgive you,” the man whispered so only God could hear his voice. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.” He stared at the massive cross looming over him, his eyes filled with rage.
Then he forced a smile, turned to face his congregation, and started the sermon.
Ethan Noll works in a welfare office and writes as often as possible.