Category: Fiction

https://heroinchic.weebly.com/blog/self-sick-by-eirene-gentle

Have you ever ridden a bike into a lake? It’s not difficult, you just keep going. The bike feels grass and gravel but doesn’t know what to do with water. We’re like that, feeling until we don’t know what to feel. But I don’t tell the girl this. 

https://heroinchic.weebly.com/blog/id-like-to-tell-her-by-eirene-gentle

I hate you with the whole of my mouth, she said and I want to tell her to save it. 

We’re the only things that burn and Independence Day, published in Does it have pockets

https://www.doesithavepockets.com/fiction/eirene-gentle-2

My brother had a firefly that danced on a pin. I don’t know where he found it. He pulled me from my bed to show me, down the small hall to the left, three normal steps for him, giant ones for me. His lamp splashed like chocolate coins in gold crinkly paper that disappeared when he flicked it off. My feet itched from cold. I was about to whine when something tiny bounced on his little wood desk.

https://www.claudineliterary.com/eirenegentle

They kept an old lady in the attic and no one cared except it wasn’t an old lady it was a grown woman and they figured she deserved it except it wasn’t a grown woman it was a young girl and they got flustered but it wasn’t their business except it wasn’t a girl it was a young boy…