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“Ray? Honey?” My mom peeks her head into my room. “Did you want some dinner? I made your favorite. Spaghetti and meatballs!”
I mumble no.
She sighs and quietly closes the door.
I go back to staring out the window.
There are waves in the distance.
There are caves too.
There is my cave.
There is our cave.
There is the beach where he was taken.
YOU ARE READING
Living on Blue Time
Short StoryFrom the time we are born there is always a clock. Wherever we go there is always a way to keep track of time. When we are born, the bright blue digital timer embedded in our right wrists is beautifully blank until we are ten years old. From that da...
