Caught in the Wind (Conclusion)

February 14, 2023February 13, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ 2 Comments

Continued from Sunset Motel…

I still want a baby.

As we lie in bed, day three of our weekend romp, I think to ask for his sperm, for both our sakes, but my voice is caught in the wind blowing through the open window.

He rolls to his side. “I think I love you.”

We both know it’s a lie, but it feels right for the moment.

I lean in, kiss him, and he inserts himself into me one last time.

word count: 77

And that’s the end! I hope you guys enjoyed my Valentine’s Day serial. It probably wasn’t the love story you were expecting, but when have I ever been known to give you basic “boy likes girl” love stories? To read from the beginning, click here: Group Therapy (Part 1).

Sunset Motel (Part 6)

February 13, 2023February 12, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

Continued from Marriage Counseling…

It was never my house. I suppose I don’t miss it. But to be locked out with only the clothes on my back and change in my purse seems cruel.

Group therapy at one; I tell them my husband and I have separated. They promise me reconciliation, but across the refreshments table, I meet his gaze.

Sunset Motel, where lovers rendezvous in secret, is a block away from the church basement.

I’m already naked when he arrives.

word count: 77
Up Next: Part 7 (Conclusion) – Caught in the Wind

In addition to being Black History Month, February is also the month of love. ❤ So to count down to Valentine’s Day, the one holiday I love to hate, I’ve decided to repost my Group Therapy series. It’s a story about two grieving parents who find love in the unlikeliest of places. I hope you enjoy.

Note: The link for part 7 will work when the post is published tomorrow.

Marriage Counseling (Part 5)

February 12, 2023February 12, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

Continued from Testing the Waters…

“Before this affair, would you call your marriage a happy one?”

“Yes—”

“No—”

We speak in unison.

Overcrowded bookshelves line the walls on either side of me. Dr. Liam’s mahogany desk and matching floor make the office appear dim. Mood lighting to fix our broken vows.

Behind me, my husband paces back and forth. He wants to file for divorce. He doesn’t have the right.

“We live like brother and sister, but I have needs.”

word count: 77
Up Next: Part 6 – Sunset Motel

Note: The link for part 6 will work when the post is published tomorrow.

Testing the Waters (Part 4)

February 11, 2023February 12, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

Continued from Empty Mansion…

I’m over-eager. I want too much. My body is not yet emptied of him before I’m crouched over the toilet, balancing the rod underneath my stream.

I wait one agonizing minute for the absence of parallel lines to tell me not so.

I don’t notice my husband watching at the door, home from his business trip.

Too late I drop the test between my legs, and with a splash, my fruitless efforts splatter my naked bottom.

word count: 77
Up Next: Part 5 — Marriage Counseling

Note: The link for part 5 will work when the post is published tomorrow.

Empty Mansion (Part 3)

February 10, 2023February 10, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

Continued from Sweet Shop…

He’s intimidated by the size of my house. Seventeen rooms and not a single child to tuck in at night, to chase down the hollow halls echoing with laughter.

He pauses at the entrance to the gardens, caresses vines wrapped around the wrought-iron gate. “I guess I’m your overworked, sexy Latin landscaper.”

“But not underpaid.”

We don’t make it inside. On the wooden bench, surrounded by azalea blossoms, he pricks me within, and my frozen interior bursts.

word count: 77
Up Next: Part 4 – Testing the Waters

Note: The link for part 4 will work when the post is published tomorrow.

Sweet Shop (Part 2)

February 9, 2023February 8, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ 3 Comments

Continued from Group Therapy…

We meet in the café on the riverfront. He devours his slice of apple pie, and I am tempted to lick the crumbs from the corners of his mouth.

“I was driving,” he recounts. “Left without a scratch.”

“Do you ever want another?” I think about my husband, away on business. We’ve been married ten years and I still know not what he does.

He stares, then nods.

“Come home with me.”

My bed is so cold.

word count: 77
Up Next: Part 3 – Empty Mansion

Note: The link for part 3 will work when the post is published tomorrow.

Group Therapy (Part 1)

February 8, 2023February 8, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

“I’m 37 years old, and I want to have a baby.”

And my husband hasn’t touched me in seven months, but I fear appearing selfish in front of these underprivileged who’ve lost children to leukemia, car seats not strapped in.

“My wife and daughter died in a crash with a semi,” says the widower whose fingers I brushed at the refreshments table, we both going for the same blueberry scone.

I’m not uncaring, but his eyes are tantalizing.

word count: 77
Up Next: Part 2 – Sweet Shop

In addition to being Black History Month, February is also the month of love. ❤ So to count down to Valentine’s Day, the one holiday I love to hate, I’ve decided to repost my Group Therapy micro fiction series. It’s a story about two grieving parents who find love in the unlikeliest of places. I hope you enjoy.

Note: The link for part 2 will work when the post is published tomorrow.

Bloganuary Day 20

January 20, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

Beer-Battered: A Nano Story

“The neighbors are fighting again,” I say as a slam against the wall causes me to drop the saltshaker into the sizzling frying pan.

“They could be killing a roach,” says my husband, who sits at the kitchen table. He clicks something on his laptop and gasps.

“What!” I shriek. “Do you see a roach?”

“They want $1600 for a one-bedroom. These are two-bedroom prices!”

I put a hand to my chest to calm my racing heart and carefully pluck the plastic saltshaker from the popping oil. Half of it is melted. The fish is probably ruined.

Another bang, followed by a muffled “Fuck you!” Whoosh goes the oil.

“Goddammit!”

“Should I order a pizza?” my husband asks.

“How soon can we move into that $1600 apartment?”

Bloganuary Day 14

January 14, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ Leave a comment

Refugees: A Nano-Story

view of earth from the moon — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Adam squeezes my hand as everything around us quakes. My breathing is heavy, labored. I can taste the all-beef hotdog, the chili cheese on the back of my tongue. They say to wait thirty minutes after a meal before you swim, and riding in a space shuttle feels like swimming.

“How much longer?” I ask, then quickly hold my breath as the contents in my stomach gurgle.

“We’re almost out,” he answers without checking the view. He’s the astronaut. He’s used to this. He’s ridden the layers of the atmosphere many times to know how they feel.

I’m the only one who’s new.

I glance out the window the width of my face and watch the clouds clear for darkness. When the turbulence calms, I let out an exhale.

“You shouldn’t have ate that stuff,” he says, shaking his head.

As relieved as I am to not be floating in vomit, it was my last meal on earth. Who knows if I’ll ever get a chance to eat something not freeze-dried again.

“We can never go back,” he says flatly, apparently reading my mind.

I crane my neck to catch one final glimpse of the tiny blue planet we’re leaving behind, shrinking in the distance.

I wonder if there will be a sudden explosion of light before it finally disappears.

Bloganuary Day 12

January 12, 2023January 12, 2023 ~ Nortina S. ~ 7 Comments

Useless Girl: A Nano-Story

Call me Cinderella—except, my Prince Charming is the CEO of a startup who’s never home, and I’ve traded evil step-relatives for a mother-in-law who doesn’t speak English.

She lifts a crooked finger coated in dust she’s wiped from the edge of a ceiling fan blade.

“Faltu larki.”

Since moving to Pakistan, I’ve slowly picked up on the Urdu words she mumbles around the house. I know “larki” means girl, and from the way she curls her upper lip at the dust on her finger, I suspect “faltu” isn’t “good.” But I’m more confused by how she was able to reach the fan when I’m barely five feet and she doesn’t even come to my shoulders.

“Seerhi kahan hai?” I ask. God, I hope I said, “Where’s the ladder?”

“Amriki bahu. Aray, wow!” She waves her arms and leaves the room.

I don’t think I’m making a good impression.

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Beer-Battered: A Nano Story

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Refugees: A Nano-Story

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Useless Girl: A Nano-Story

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