There’s a gap, in this conversation. A spot where it… glitches, might be the right word.
“Al, come on!”
“I’m—”
“Hurry up!”
Like a record needle jumping. Like skipping through channels. Something a little bit wrong.
Like the voice in the background, when his heartbeat quiets, whispering wake up.
Alexa Donley is a speculative fiction writer from Washington. When not writing, she can be found traveling or walking in storms. Her first novel, The House on the Rocks, is available now.
It turns out, if you want to pretend you’re normal, you don’t talk to your dead grandfather in the cemetery, resting your head on his tombstone like resting on his lap.
And you definitely don’t come home smelling of tobacco, humming a lullaby he sang your mom but not you.
Alexa Donley is a speculative fiction writer from Washington. When not writing, she can be found traveling or walking in storms. Her first novel, The House on the Rocks, is available now.
Summoning a ghost isn’t so hard. If your lips touch the teacup rim at dawn, you taste rose instead of chamomile. If you wear a diamond ring with initials you don’t know, you feel a hand in yours.
Sometimes you can hear them too, but don’t follow too far.
Alexa Donley is a speculative fiction writer from Federal Way, Washington. When not writing, she enjoys traveling and walking in storms.
A breath.
A wave rolls in, pulls out, digs furrows beneath my heels that drag towards the sea. That’s the direction I go. Always, always, to the sea.
“Marie!” Mom calls. “You know better than to listen to the waves. Come on.”
My coat, shiny gray, drapes in her hand.
Alexa Donley is a speculative fiction writer from Federal Way, Washington. When not writing, she enjoys traveling and walking in storms.