Crystals & Crows || A Collection of Short Stories

The Stars

Amber hated her job.

She hated her manager, Zeke, who was nothing short of a sleaze, and the way he found every bloody excuse to touch her. They worked at an ice cream shop, for crying out loud! Why the hell did he keep insisting on wiping the cookie-and-fucking-cream mix off her chin? Why did he have to hover so close behind her, hands creeping towards her waist, as he showed her how to work the damned machines?

She hated the staff. For brushing her off when she spoke about it.

She hated her parents. For telling her she wouldn't be in this position if she had done a real degree in the first place, instead of having to scrape extra cash from a filthy ice-cream shop to do a second degree in business management.

She hated her friends. For telling her that she should follow her dreams and study archaeology, and simply watch as she wasted three whole years of her life.

And she hated herself.

For being so alone.

As she walked through the dirt road, the stars leaving traces of gold along the cracks and pioneering weeds beneath her, she turned her head over her shoulder. When she was certain she was the only beating heart, the only being of warm blood and flesh, the only pair of boots that hummed with the wind, she tore the apron from her waist.

"Fuck you, Zeke!"

She thought it would feel good. She thought the dust-laden banners along the nearby stores would rattle with her. She thought the birds on the trees lining the road would holler back. Only a little chain on some bicycle rang back – probably the wind.

So she did it louder. Fuelled it with every ember of hate she felt, let it burn and ache there in her throat as she screamed.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

...that is quite a lot of fucking...

Amber was silent in an instant, rooted to the ground.

Who had said that? Had it been Zeke? Had he followed her?

She turned over her shoulder again. Closed doors. Dirt. Trees. Clouds. Stars. Darkness.

But not a single other person.

"I'm losing my mind," she muttered to herself. "I'm losing it."

...happens to the best of us...

There it was again. That bemused voice. Barely a whisper. Caressing her ears with the wind.

She was sure of it. It was not her imagination. It was—

She spun around again. More closed doors. More dirt. More trees. More clouds. More stars. More darkness.

"And now, I'm talking to myself, too," she said, snorting. "I really am a looney."

...so was i, once upon a time...

It was everywhere, yet nowhere. Not coming for a single place, but circling around her. She couldn't see a face, but she could hear their smirk, that tantalising edge to their voice.

And yet...

"Okay, who the fuck are you?" she called out, lifting her hands in surrender. "It's rude to stalk people."

...then consider me rude...

This time, she worked it out.

Because the dirt didn't move. The trees didn't sway. The clouds hardly drifted.