What Was Seen

The Thirteenth Hour

The stove clock offered no numbers, only a black void, yet the minute shifted. The cold arrived first, a sharp pressure against the window pane that tightened the skin on our arms before the air in the room changed. We stood on opposite sides of the linoleum,…

The Chlorine Stain

The broom handle burned, wood slick with sweat. I pushed bristles across cracked concrete. A dry rasp scraped the silence. Dust and dried algae skittered ahead, piling into gray drifts. The pool sat empty, a basin stained green by drought. Water thick enough…

The Static Between Stations

Rain hammered the rusted railing of the Mount Oriel deck, a rhythm we felt in the hollows of our ribs. 1998. The Atlantic heaved against the stone base, a grey wall of water swallowing the horizon. Inside the tower, the radio hummed without being turned on.…

The Wet Wall

The concrete under my boots is cracked, a spiderweb of fractures running from the diving board's rusted stumps to the chain-link fence. The eviction notice is dry in my hand, crisp white against the gray sky. High windows of the municipal pool stare down,…

The Static Between

The cold air bit through the thin fabric of my uniform as I pushed the mop bucket across the raised floor. The hum of the cooling fans vibrated up through the soles of my shoes. I kept my eyes on the aisle, on the rows of black racks blinking with steady…

The Breakwater

The wood groaned under Elias's boots, a wet, sucking sound rising from the deep. He kept his eyes on the gap between the soles and the planks, counting the splinters flaking away in the damp air. Fog pressed against his temples, smelling of brine and rotting…