Popular Fictional Prose

The therapist explained how codependency is an irrational destruction to a relationship. Shifting in her seat, putting her notebook aside, pensively gazing the room; how with emotional investments one develops expectations.
The couple sitting in the loveseat across from her heard with selective empathy, negotiating in their minds the truth, each claiming contribution with half accountability.

“I want to know why she never trusts me. Always insisting I’m wrong. Every conversation leads to another woman, another email, late evenings, early mornings, online, offline. I can...

Her Blanche Moment          
              
She still remembers the night the moon rose over Esplanade Avenue with its light penetrating her soul deeper than the sun on a hot summer’s day.
“You know how to make a girl swoon. But what a spooky night this is. Look in the shadows, John. I see ghosts everywhere. Oh, my flirty man. Let’s go to Bourbon Street and listen to some jazz. I know you don’t want to hear me babble on all night.”
“I gave up the Bourbon Street scene long ago. Let’s go home and read together.”
As they pass down Esplanade she feels like an...

They say Craig and I never went to Vince Macarthur's house, only Gordon did. But I did go, and so did Craig. I remember the three of us going and I remember the house well. The faded curtains. The musty smells. The shabby carpets. The elusive dancing shadows behind the loose banisters on the staircase. The torn settee by a pile of dusty newspapers. The purple vase in the corner with a fine wiry pattern etched in the glasswork. The metal guard around the gas fire. Model aeroplanes in the sitting room. Spitfires. Lancaster Bombers.

     The whole place had a dark and gloomy feel,...

There's not many things as beautiful as the way smoke brings an image to the movements of the air. It is sensitive to every little movement that is made around, even the smallest wave of a hand can send it into disarray. Symbolic of the way that life in itself works. They say a butterfly flapping it's wings can cause a tornado hundreds of miles away. It makes you realize just how delicate the air is. It's no wonder that there are groups so up in arms about whatever we put into it as a species.

When the smoke started to cling to my lungs and make my throat itch, I sat in the room...