Stories

Tag: Esther Davis

  • Scars

    by Esther Davis

    Every scar tells a story.

    Dark webbing still marks my shoulder from the day that bullets separated my squad from our company. The bleeding would’ve killed me if my comrades hadn’t bandaged it. But isolated from medical equipment, we couldn’t stop the scarring.

    After days of wandering the Amazon I tripped, leaving a white slice across my stomach. A dumb wound. Not from a heroic battle with enemy soldiers or fleeing some hungry beast. I just got tired, so I fell.

    Then came the jagged blossom encasing my thigh. Forever a vengeful red, as if still burning after all these years.

    Some stories I’d rather forget. (more…)

  • Frozen Heart

    by Esther Davis

    The snowfall muffled the distant highway, and frosted autumn leaves still clung to their branches. Cody perched on the bench’s edge. His pug flopped into the carpet of snow at his feet. He watched Rachel’s fingers molding the handful of snow—clumsy and awkward. So simple, so ordinary. Magicless.

    It was beautiful.

    (more…)