A new short story

I haven’t written a blog post in a fairly long time. I’ve been researching a lot on psychopathy, and have just submitted a chapter for an academic collection. Should this chapter be accepted, I will no doubt blog to celebrate and provide a reference for the new piece.

In the mean time I have been playing around with a short story. I’m still tinkering with it, but if you’d like a gander, here it is. Enjoy!

 

Hope

 

Sarah was deathly sick, and had recently finished her fourth round of chemo. Out of sympathy, Hope had decided to shave her head, and it was going to be a surprise for Sarah on her next visit. Hope ran her fingers over her head, and trailed them down and through her long blonde hair, pulling it over her left shoulder.

 

She smiled, and knew she was going to miss it. But some things were more important.

 

Hope took a mental snapshot of Sarah, sitting in her chair, watching the TV, and pulled the door closed until she heard the lock click. It scared Hope how much weight Sarah had lost. In High School she had been on the track team, and had a throwing arm that rivaled the quarterback. Now she was small and bony, and none of her clothes fit her anymore.

 

Sarah lived on the top floor of the apartment building. The concrete stairwell that wound down to the ground floor was always dirty and littered with discarded coffee cups and fast food boxes, and sometimes even used syringe needles, bent and burnt spoons, and broken glass. It was a burden to remember the location of anything ominous that might be stepped on.

 

Hope decided against the stairwell and followed a small and hunched man wearing a tatty blue cardigan and flat gray cap into the elevator. He was stooped over two large cloth carrier bags, one on each side, and shuffled forward without taking his feet from the floor. Judging by his posture, one would’ve guessed the bags each weighed about fifty pounds.

 

There were stains on the floor of the elevator, but none of them looked wet. Hope stepped to the side of the old man, glanced sympathetically at his heavy bags, and looked up to see the doors close.

 

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