He caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror, but instead of the handsome, successful, owner of a billion-dollar corporation, he saw the remnants of the unpopular, socially-awkward, Magic The Gathering-obsessed nerd he left...

She clung to the memories of her youth as if they were the only way she could save a piece of her soul from whatever it was she was about to face.

He was an artist, and she, an anarchist, the destroyer of his beautiful creations. His body tensed, pushing hot adrenaline through his body with irascible rage. His anger gave way to lamentation as his heart...

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she kept her convoluted and confused thoughts to herself. He was her light in the darkness, but she was unsure if it was actual love...

Bridget’s tight fists began to shake as something from deep inside, born of utter anger and hatred, crept from the depths of her soul. She lunged at him, prepared to pound his handsome face to...

sessions,” she could cross over to the real afterlife. It was a strange concept for her because she was not Catholic. She was some variant of Protestant–something that did not believe in Limbo but believed...

He wanted to crumple her up and toss her from his mind like a scrap piece of paper filled with nonsensical doodles or dissonant words that formed unbalanced rhymes. Yet, he refused throw her away.

Matthews quietly stood by the closed door, watching the patient. Her dramatic eyes darted back and forth as they stared through nothingness, lost in thought. His gaze shifted to her blazing locks, which elegantly fell...