Short Stories Image

    Short Stories


he First Breath of Spring

Their faces are pressed against the cold glass and an elbow is pressed into service to wipe away the inevitable fog. They’re huddled together against the cold...


Short, True Story

So, we meet in secret places, out in public’s plain sight. We’ve nothing to hide from the ignorant any way. Our favorite place is the local coffee shop, right off the...


oldi: Out of the Woods, Into the Fire

Goldilocks ran until she couldn’t run any more. Breasts heaving with her every gasp for breath she bent over trying to calm her racing heart. Lord she’d cut that one...


ood Morning

“Teresa? Hon? Wake up, you’re going to be late.” My Mom’s voice rose from the bottom of the stairs, creeping under my door and poking me into reluctant wakefulness.


hining Knight

Lying in bed, it all gets whirled around in my head. Over and over I replay the scene in my mind, as if torturing myself with these images and thoughts...

Copyright © 2006- Teresa Rothman