Fiction

The silence in the living room wasn’t heavy, not exactly. Just… *there*. Amplified by the tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hall, the only other sound the occasional rustle of a textbook page. Except neither of us had turned a page in probably ten minutes. My history book lay open on the coffee table, a dense block of text about the Reformation that seemed completely alien. Across from me, tucked into the corner of the sofa, sat Jenna. She chewed absently on the end of her pen, leaving faint teeth marks in the cheap plastic. She was small. Not just short, but *small* all over. Delicate, almost. Her faded jeans hugged skinny legs, the knees ripped because that was the style, showing pale skin underneath. A simple white t-shirt clung loosely to her torso, …

“Just the tip” Read More »