by Lunchbox Editor | Jan 23, 2026
She was standing on the ledge. Before her, across the lawn and all its noise, the sun was burning. It floated lazily in the space above a bank of storm clouds that were weeping their slate gray shade onto the lake’s opposite shore. It was nearing its final hour before...
by Lunchbox Editor | Jan 23, 2026
Lily: beauty I like flowers in theory. In reality, I’m not very partial to dirt, and I don’t like having things knowing that they will die. I’ve never kept a plant alive, and knowing a fresh bouquet will soon rot just reminds me of the ever-looming mortality that...
by Lunchbox Editor | Dec 5, 2024
Annie didn’t hear the first knock on her bedroom door. She was listening to some song that made her sink further into her stiff mattress and shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun slithering through the fibers of her dusty curtains. She didn’t hear the second knock...
by Lunchbox Editor | Dec 5, 2024
The day began with the sun, as it always does. Between the breezes and the brush, little slivers of light cascaded through the trees, awaking the birds and the moss. Mourning doves cooed somberly with the dawn. Pink waves of moisture painted the sky, as if pouring...
by Lunchbox Editor | Dec 5, 2024
A Tide Worn Heart Two eyes watched Mrs. Hartley through the thick glass of her cabin’s porthole. Puffy and bloodshot, they stared at her unblinkingly. She struggled to meet their gaze. The warm light of the cabin made it very difficult to see much beyond the ghostly...
