Short Stories

The crunch of gravel under Mara’s boots sent a shiver of familiarity through her as she stepped out of her dusty Jeep. Granite Peak loomed above, its jagged silhouette etched against the fading twilight sky. She inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and crisp mountain air flooding her senses with long-buried memories. Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since she’d last set foot in this small mountain town she once called home. Now, at thirty-eight, Dr. Mara Holloway was back – not for a nostalgic homecoming, but as the lead geologist on a critical survey of the region’s changing landscape. ...

Mara’s fingers hovered over her keyboard, the cursor blinking accusingly on the empty spreadsheet. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sickly glow across rows of identical gray cubicles. She glanced at the clock: 2:47 PM. Still over two hours until she could escape this corporate purgatory. Her phone buzzed, and Mara’s heart leapt. Finally, a distraction. But as she read the text from her husband Derek, ice flooded her veins. ...

The humid air clung to Mira’s skin as she stepped off the rickety bus onto the dusty road. Adjusting her backpack, she squinted at the sun-baked village before her. Wooden houses with tin roofs lined the single dirt street, their faded paint peeling in the relentless heat. Chickens pecked lazily in front yards, while a few curious faces peered out from behind tattered curtains. This was it. After months of planning and paperwork, she had finally arrived in Santa Rosa, deep in the heart of the Peruvian Amazon. The potential for groundbreaking botanical discoveries here was immense. If only she could find the elusive Dr. Alejandro Vega. ...

The moving truck rumbled away, leaving Mara Chen standing on the cracked sidewalk of Willow Lane. She squinted against the late afternoon sun, taking in the weathered clapboard houses with their sagging porches and overgrown yards. This quiet street on the outskirts of town wasn’t exactly what she’d pictured when dreaming of a fresh start, but it was all she could afford on a teacher’s aide salary. “What do you think, Liam?” Mara asked, glancing down at her son. “It’s not so bad, right?” ...

Milo Finch slouched on a park bench, his rumpled suit a reminder of better days. He absently swirled the dregs of a cheap coffee while scanning job listings on his phone. Nothing. Six months since he’d been unceremoniously axed from his cushy analyst gig, and the closest he’d come to employment was a soul-crushing interview at a big box store. A fluttering commotion drew his gaze. An older woman in a flowing floral dress was scattering birdseed, surrounded by a swarm of cooing pigeons. Milo snorted. Feeding vermin - that’s about all he was qualified for these days. ...

Mara’s brush hovered over the canvas, trembling slightly as she stared at the blank expanse before her. The farmhouse creaked and settled around her, a symphony of unfamiliar noises that still set her on edge after three months. She closed her eyes, willing inspiration to come, but found only the same foggy blankness that had plagued her since moving here. With a frustrated sigh, she set down her brush and palette. The easel stood accusingly in the corner of her studio, a reminder of her creative drought. Mara wandered to the window, gazing out at the rolling fields bathed in late afternoon sunlight. The view was breathtaking, exactly what she’d hoped for when she’d impulsively purchased this isolated property. A fresh start, far from the bustle and painful memories of the city. ...

The fluorescent lights flickered to life, casting a harsh glow over the maze of gray cubicles. Mira Chen stifled a yawn as she settled into her chair, the familiar creak a reminder of another day trapped in corporate purgatory. She glanced at her monitor, the cursor blinking accusingly on a half-finished spreadsheet. “Morning, sunshine,” Denise Wong chirped, popping her head over the partition. “Ready for another thrilling day of data crunching?” ...

The scorching desert sun beat down mercilessly as Nadia stepped out of her dusty rental car. She squinted against the glare, surveying the ramshackle collection of buildings that comprised the remote town of Al-Safiya. A tumbleweed rolled lazily across the cracked pavement of the town’s lone main street. Nadia sighed, already regretting her decision to take on this assignment. As she hefted her luggage from the trunk, a voice called out, “You must be the geologist from the mining company!” ...

The chalk squeaked against the blackboard as Mrs. Abernathy’s spidery handwriting filled the green expanse. Eliza Pearce hunched lower in her seat, willing herself to disappear. All around her, the scritch-scratch of pencils on paper mingled with whispers and the occasional muffled giggle. She kept her eyes fixed on her own pristine notebook, unmarked except for the careful lettering of her name in the top corner. “Now then, who can tell me the answer to question three?” Mrs. Abernathy’s voice cut through the classroom buzz. ...

Mira’s rental car crawled up the winding mountain road, each turn revealing another breathtaking vista of snow-capped peaks and plunging valleys. She should have felt awe, wonder, maybe even a spark of joy at the majestic landscape. Instead, a dull emptiness gnawed at her core, as it had for months now. The quaint town of Everdale came into view, a cluster of rustic buildings nestled in a high alpine meadow. Mira pulled into the gravel lot of the Pinewood Lodge, cut the engine, and sat motionless for several long moments. With a deep sigh, she finally gathered her resolve and stepped out into the crisp mountain air. ...