The hospital hallway stretched out before them, cold, sterile, and seemingly endless. Every step Gabriel took echoed, bouncing off the polished floor and fading into the antiseptic air. His father, Pastor Samuel, walked beside him—quiet, steady, his face etched with the weariness of a man who had seen too much. […]Read more »
Flash Fiction
I’ve seen death many times. You get used to it working in hospice. There’s a pattern to it, like the soft ticking of a clock. Time winding down, second by second, until—stop. It’s not usually a violent thing. Most people slip away quietly, surrounded by family, love, or at least […]Read more »
Ethan had driven aimlessly for hours. He didn’t know where he was going—maybe because there was nowhere left to go. The lights of the city blurred past him, neon signs and headlights streaking across his vision like some distant reality he no longer belonged to. His phone sat on the […]Read more »
Ethan barely recognized himself anymore. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gripping the edges of the sink so hard his knuckles turned white. The man staring back at him looked like a stranger—eyes hollow, skin pale, and tension carved deep into his features. His shirt was wrinkled from […]Read more »