Category Archives: The Red Dress Club

Too Slow

His face was etched with malice. She cringed. Why was he always so angry? He approached slowly, intently. She backed away with equal intent. Too slow. He lunged. ____________________ This post was written in reponse to a prompt by Write … Continue reading

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Loud and Clear

I watch as the water runs in a compilation of rapid rivers from the kitchen faucet. My wrist reveals what I’d already known from the thousand times I had checked it before: not too hot; not too cold. The tiny … Continue reading

Posted in My Babies, RemembeRED, Write on Edge | Tagged , , , | 32 Comments

The Last Breath

One final breath. Muscles tighten, then release; an earthly presence gone. Another’s breath taken and released: tiny and new. Strong. Alive. ____________________ One final breath. Muscle tightens, then releases; a mother gone. Another’s breath taken and released: tiny and new. … Continue reading

Posted in My Babies, Red Writing Hood, Write on Edge | Tagged , , | 95 Comments

Shell of a Girl

The movie was boring at best. My fourteen year old mind wasn’t too keen on the whole concept of “Death Wish,” regardless of which part it happened to be. I snuggled into the blanket, trying to immerse myself in the … Continue reading

Posted in General, RemembeRED, Write on Edge | Tagged , , | 13 Comments

The Unsent Letter

Mother, I’m not bothering to send you this because I know that it wouldn’t do any good. I wish you could see how you have emotionally crippled me to the point of disrepair. I wish that, after 17 years, I … Continue reading

Posted in General, Red Writing Hood, The Red Dress Club | Tagged , , | 19 Comments

A Second Chance

This is a brief continuation to a piece I wrote last month. If you missed the first part of Haley’s story, it can be found here. ____________________ Haley’s eyes felt heavy, weighted. The air around her was musty and thick … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, The Red Dress Club | Tagged , , , | 17 Comments

Still Empty

I paused in front of the mirror, turning, inspecting the fabric and its uncomfortably close relationship with my skin. Every curve outlined. Every flaw accentuated. No matter my apparent need for them, I had grown weary long ago of compliments. … Continue reading

Posted in Ana, The Red Dress Club | Tagged , , , , | 44 Comments