All-My-OCs

    There weren’t many places open past midnight, but chances were you had to have a form of identification to get in. The case was the same in Zephyr and Gale’s situation.    A couple of months had passed since Zephyr’s induction into college, and there was something Gale wanted to do, well, something he wanted to get, to celebrate.    But no matter how many times Zephyr asked he wouldn’t tell.    “There’s no rush,” he’d always say, as if saying so would deter Zephyr’s intense amount of persistence. He’d wave it off, as if it was nothing.    As if.    Zephyr raised a skept

And the problem with Ema, was that, well. Um. “Hey! I heard from your sister that you’re living with a guy now! Where is he?” An all-too-familiar pair of rose-tinted shades and an honorable attempt to resurrect three decade-old clothes (that smelled like they were fresh out of a thrift-store, mixed with cologne and smoke) stood in his doorway on a tall, lithe frame. The guy pushed past M just like any other door and scoped the apartment for another being. “...Why are you talking to my sister?” The new visitor took it upon himself to open all the doors in the apartment, even the cupboards. He got to the refrigera

A glass dish clanked against the cold metal sink. M fumbled to catch it. A pause in the conversation led M to believe the others probably stopped to look over at him. That, or because Billy had taken another long swig of beer. M couldn't be sure; he tried to play it off like nothing happened. Billy exhaled. “She’s at home with my mom. She's been napping around this time every day lately. It works for me so I didn’t wanna break that habit.” "Oh! That's convenient! A little disappointing though, I was hoping to meet her..." “Daughter?” M said quietly, thinking it to himself more than anything. All at once the

It’s not that M wasn’t hospitable, he just couldn’t quite remember how to be, exactly. College did that to people. It drowned its inhabitants in waves of cheap pens, pointless handouts, printer ink, stacks of essays, junk food, and practically anything else they can think of that would even remotely render one desensitized to matters of the outside world. Or rather, until they no longer recalled what the prospect of socialization was like. For example, it was only a few days ago that he remembered phones could be used for more than texting. He had received the strangest call from a friend of a friend of a friend, or…we

There was the sound of an explosion. Followed by another. And another, until there were so many in succession that any other sound would be hard-pressed to be heard. It was a good thing, then, that M’s phone was set to vibrate, and currently in his back pocket. He put it to his ear and answered without even looking to see who the caller was. He continued to focus on the onscreen destruction he had been in the midst of causing. “This is M,” he answered, with a slightly disconnected voice. “Hey, uh, M. This is Billy.” M hit the pause button and set the controller down. Who? “I don’t, like, know if yo

Rose wasn’t sure if the burn in her cheeks was the fault of the stove or her trembling hand– or perhaps it was the way that same hand brushed against her steady one when they passed the whisk back and forth between them over the pot of slowly melting sugar. -- Min had always marveled at how the smallest things were never as small as they seemed. It was logical, then, that that was the thought to flash behind his eyes as he watched the door slid softly shut an inch from his fingers with the innocuous finality of a guillotine. -- Said in rash anger, the words had no meaning. Said with the steel of eye and iron of lip that it was