Climbing Coach
I turned 28 on a Monday, and I spent most of that morning telling teenagers where to put their feet.
Mature stories. Mature stories, from quick reads to long series. Reads run 22 to 26 minutes. Writers to know: Vermilion Fiction, Drift Diary and Observer of Starling. Readers usually start with “The Talent Show Confession” and “The Quiet End”. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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I turned 28 on a Monday, and I spent most of that morning telling teenagers where to put their feet.
The library closed at six on Fridays, which in my opinion was a crime against working people, but I don't make the hours.
The dress was too tight.
Bennett Mayfield was twenty-four years old, and she had exactly one plan for the evening, which was to drink two whiskeys at The Anchor…
I locked the register at six and looked at the clock.
Peg was fifty-two years old and she had been roasting coffee for the better part of twenty years, so she found it ridiculous, standing in…
Sienna called me at seven in the morning, after we'd both been up all night on a shift.
I have been running events at Oakton College for seven years, and in that time I have learned one rule about visiting scholars.
*I wrote this one raw because empty-nest lust doesn't get enough airtime.
I turned sixty-two in March and I still work the night shift at Red Canyon Warehouse, out on the edge of Dry Mesa where the highway bends…
My name is Hanna, I'm fifty-four years old, and I have a problem.
Dalton Jansen had been cleaning the crew lounge at Reno-Tahoe for eleven months now, and he had a system for the overnight shift that he…
I woke up on the hospital cot with a crick in my neck and a face that was not my face.
Francis was flat on the creeper under the white Freightliner with half the drivetrain dropped and a knuckle scraped raw, when the office…
The parking lot at Willow Creek Farmers Market was already half full by seven in the morning, and I was already sweating through my blouse…
The hallways are quiet at seven.
I took the Snowpine job because I was tired of being the good guy.
I'm Margot.
The dispatch note said pickup at four, which meant by any sane math I should have been loaded and rolling by five.
I've done four hundred weddings, give or take.
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Vermilion Fiction, Drift Diary, Observer of Starling, Moss Harbor