“A story is as good a way to organize your thoughts as anything else,” she points out, poised in the shadows in the doorway. I quickly conclude that she is playing the part of my conscience. That, or devil’s advocate. Either way, she’s me. I cannot say she does not really exist without implying the same of myself. She...

Exercise in Imagination

I just stumbled across a few things I wrote for a creative writing class I took this past spring to fulfill an elective requirement. One of the assignments involved writing a short story based on a work of art found online. I had no trouble thinking of one that sparked my imagination. The painting “Summer Comes” by...

“We never remember the beginning,” she said quietly. “We pretend not to know why—but then that is one of our favorite tricks, isn’t it?” she glanced up at me, smiling at my confused silence. With her arms crossed she began to drift about the room, examining objects while continuing this strange introduction. “We...