A short story by Jill Zero You’re the first thing my mind recalls when I wake up and the last thing it pauses when I fade into sleep. I’ve never held you, nor have I truly possessed you in any way. At least not yet. Right now you’re only a longing I can’t extinguish, […]
Tag Archives: jill zero
Uncertainty
A short story by Jill Zero My heart drums inside my chest with a desperate prisoner’s determination, each beat a frantic question. Where do I go from here? Is anyone willing to assist me? What if I choose the wrong door? How do I figure this out? Hello? Are you listening? PAY ATTENTION TO […]
Alive?
By Jill Zero The wall outside the library is my favorite spot to smoke cigarettes. I like the coolness of the brick, which seeps through my shirt onto the surface of my skin, and I savor the rough texture against my fidgeting fingertips. It’s a silly privilege to lean there alone. No one bothers me. […]
A Navigator’s Guide to the Abyss
By Jill Zero It’s impossible to see clearly in the abyss. Darkness swallows everything it touches. Once, there might have been crevices and crooks to grip. Once, a path may have emerged from the depths. No longer. Pitch blackness now consumes the light as if driven by insatiable hunger, the byproduct of heavy thoughts and […]
Letterbound
By Jill Zero He stood outside of the brown tri-level, motionless except for the slight tremble in his hand as he read the letter he’d been putting off reading for what felt like an eternity. His eyes grazed the page in silence and processed the words in a cavern he didn’t know existed […]