The Living and The Dead

Hycinth

The alarm clock next to my bed blared the unpleasant news that it was time to start another day. I cringed and moaned. Eyes screwed shut, I flailed my arm in its general direction, and my hand smacked the front until I found the snooze button. Silence fell. I inhaled slowly. But my reprieve would be short.

It had been six weeks since Lucky had threatened to call Leander if it didn’t get out of bed. And every day since then, I’d dutifully gotten up and gone to work and tried to pretend I was okay. But every day, instead of feeling better, I...