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A Golden Day – Revised

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In celebration of the news that “A Golden Day” is going to be published this spring in the Greyrock Review, here’s the newest revised version! Enjoy…

 

Days like that were hard to come by. The September air was warm, but held just a hint of autumn’s crispness as it breezed through the multi-hued leaves on trees lining the street. Clouds dominated the sky, but enough sun broke through to illuminate the burnished reds and golds fluttering above.

Mark Yoren could not hold back a smile as he walked down the main road through campus. The weather was perfect, he thought, and did little except remind him of good times, both past and present. The future was all that troubled him, that day.

His senior year was upon him, the first test of the semester was looming, monstrous, scheduled for the next Monday. He and Andrew walked, side by side, and were silent despite the beneficent glow seeping through the husky greys and blooming whites of the cloud cover.

They were thinking about the same thing, Mark knew. Some of the best times they’d had since becoming friends happened on fall days like that. Days back in high school, five and six years ago, sneaking beers into their parents’ basements and drinking, or coming up with the most immature games they could think of. He missed the superficiality of it all. Continue reading

Silver Night – Revised

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While I’m in the process of finishing up a couple of other stories—namely, “A Golden Day” and “Pitch Black”—I thought I’d post the newest version of “Silver Night” on here. The changes aren’t huge, but they’re there. Enjoy!

                The black silk of her dress shone under the city lights, throwing minute glints of silver toward his eyes. He walked only a few steps behind her, flanked by a group of his friends, and watched her walk. She was short; only her two-inch heels kept her from being a full foot shorter than he.

                He didn’t mind. Continue reading

Short Story – Silver Night

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The black silk of her dress shone under the city lights, throwing minute glints of silver toward his eyes. He walked only a few steps behind her, flanked by two of his friends, and watched her walk. She was short; only her two-inch heels kept her from being a full foot shorter than he.

He didn’t mind.

She was beautiful. He knew it, his friends knew it, the people strolling by on the sidewalk knew it, and even those in cars flying down the street knew it. More than a few catcalls were made, and each one felt like a little jab into his stomach. She was his girl. Sort of. Continue reading