Blemish

by Danielle Ellis | Aug 6, 2025 | Fiction

The lady in the yellow summer dress or the gentleman in the V-neck. Both, ideally, but the train will soon leave. Don’t be foolish. Look at it differently. Move to the bar, watch their reflections from the glass behind the counter. Wait patiently for the right angle.

Stand casually. Walk slowly. Ask the bartender for a beer. Too expensive. Ask for water. Be casual. Glance at the TV.

Now wait.

Just a little longer.

Hands on the camera. Be ready. Focus.

Now! Turn around and press the button. Leave! Walk through the crowd. Ignore their grumble. Don’t shove the bouncer, that’s what went wrong last time.

Take a quick peek.

The man is grimacing, annoyed by the flash. Hasn’t noticed the weight gathering, around a chiseled jaw.

The woman is rolling her eyes. Assuming this is common attention. Hasn’t felt the growing nose.

Required blemishes.

Friends will abandon. Self-esteem will be lost. Then one step at a time, after chasing what has been lost, two selfish people will step off the pedestal beauty placed them on.

Go home. Drop the film in liquid. Pin them to a string. Watch the faces appear. Add them to the others on the wall.

Featured Photo by Ludovic Delot

Make Room

by Danielle Ellis | Jul 31, 2025 | Fiction

The alley behind the church was usually well-kept. The small brick building used to be a restaurant, one that held many personal family memories. Good food paired with a warm and inviting atmosphere. One that lingered even when the paint started peeling and a few windows were boarded up. The door had been locked and the building sat in dingy darkness for years.

Kim sat on a tree trunk that had appeared one day, sideways and threatening to roll away. She had wrestled with it, cleaned it, and sat it up properly to be used as a stool. The alley was no longer well kept, only because it fit in with everything else. Just enough trash and uncut weeds for obscurity.

Her foot tapped as if dancing, her hands wrung in her lap. For the past six weeks, her thoughts had been circular. Full of fear. Kim thought she had more faith than that. Had they raided churches yet? She should have stayed better informed, but it was all too horrifying to witness. She had to break it up. Focus on her work during the week, then allow some space on Wednesday to get caught up on the news.

Cecilia had taken the bus yesterday, at six exactly. They had decided that traveling by bus might be safer than a plane but Kim wasn’t sure. The text from this morning told her they had left Alabama, just touching Tennessee. Only a two-hour drive and it was nearing hour four. Kim’s texts had gone unanswered.

Hopefully, the accommodation would suffice. The Pastor’s office had been rearranged. If anyone asked, it was a renovation. The adjoined bathroom was finally fixed. The desk was cleared so Isidro had a place to study. The two chairs became two small futons. If inspected, the room would feel cramped but standard.

Earlier that day, Kim had brought her minifridge and microwave from home, just in case the office door had to be locked. The church had a kitchen that Cecilia knew she was free to use. Some food from the pantry had been set aside for her.

Be ye also ready. But Kim hadn’t expected this. Cecilia’s husband had a green card and a beautifully clean record. A Christian as well. Kim had met him at a Dallas bus stop. His backpack had been one from the college bookstore so she had brought it up. They conversed the entire ride to the campus.

Now, he was gone. No one knew where. He had been coming home from work at the worst time and was apprehended while Cecilia covered Isidro’s eyes, watching from the window. The man who had become one of Kim’s closest friends was unjustifiably contained and nothing could be done about it.

Isidro Quesada Sr. had told his family to call Pastor Kimesh Johnson if they were ever in trouble. The way she called him when she had gotten laid off and her rent was behind or when her car had broken down and he let her borrow his. Their hands were open with generosity for each other and Kim had a terrifying, engulfing feeling she would never see him again.

Her phone dinged and it startled Kim so bad, she dropped it. With a flurry of motion, she bent down to retrieve it and read the text. The bus had broken down and caused a delay. They were in Chattanooga boarding a new bus. Cecilia hadn’t meant to worry Kim but her phone had died. Kim exhaled, her heart slowing to a normal beat.

It would take a couple of hours. She could take a quick break, and come back. As soon as she stood, her phone rang. A custom ringtone, clipped from a song performed by the church’s small choir.

Kim answered, “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Don’t worry about us.” Cecilia’s accent was very light, but it gave warmth to every word she spoke. “No, this is something different. I feel horrible and I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Kim’s brow pinched. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Cecilia trailed off. Kim heard the soft huff of her sigh. “Before we left, I went to check on the neighbors. They usually leave for work at the same time. Reyna and Lucas, you remember?”

They were a fun-loving couple. Whenever Kim visited her friends, Lucas was always working in the apartment’s communal garden. He would laugh and make jokes, only happy if everyone else laughed with him. Reyna would tell him to ‘be serious for once’ and offer Kim food while complaining about working with her husband. Her bright smile betrayed her feigned frustration.

“I went over and the kids were alone.” Cecilia’s voice had the slightest tremble. “They hadn’t left the house in days because their parents hadn’t been back. They would never do that.”

Laughter and a bright smile faded to darkness in Kim’s mind. Static filled the space where words should have been. Kim looked down at first, then at both sides of the alley. As if she knew a direction to follow.

Finally, she spoke. “I’m so sorry.” It felt pitiful. Her remorse couldn’t bring them back.

“I didn’t want to leave them there so I brought them with me.” The tremble was growing, “I’m sorry. I know it’s unfair. I just didn’t know what else to do. I know the church is small.”

It was. There was no basement or attic that could be fixed up for futons. The dining area had been turned into a nave. The only extra space was already cramped. Barely enough room for the one broken family it had been spruced up for.

“You did exactly what you were supposed to,” Kim said, walking inside, planning ahead. She only had a few members but they were dedicated. “Bring them. We’ll make room.”

Featured Photo by Pavel Danilyuk

Corporate Collision

by Interrobang | Oct 31, 2023 | Fiction

Bob had that look on his face again. His nose crinkled in a distinct expression of disgust. Disgusted with himself, perhaps. Or more accurately, disgusted with me.

“Carol, the printer is out of paper again,” Bob said. His voice was quiet, but his anger was as clear as the coming storm.

I watched from across the room, one eye peeking from behind my computer. Prepared to snatch it towards the screen should he feel my nosy gaze and look my way. Carol, his secretary, and his wife, never uttered a word. She continued tapping away on the keyboard as if he hadn’t spoken.

Yep. This spat was definitely not about the printer.

Maybe it had something to do with that email Bob sent me. The latest of many, actually. The one asking me to go with him to dinner, yet again, and after dinner we could visit a nice hotel. There was also that last sentence. The one implying that the status of my employment relied on the response.

I decided to not respond at all.

Instead, I went back to work. Checked the rest of my messages, and forwarded some important ones to my coworkers. One of them was Carol. I added Janice’s email, the head of HR. It wasn’t until I pressed send that I realized I had forwarded the wrong email. Instead of the quarterly production reports, I sent the invitation to a job-dependent dinner date Bob had sent. Silly me. I make the clumsiest mistakes.

At least that’s what I told Bob when he called me into his office fifteen minutes later. He had the same look that he was wearing now. Eyes squinted. Face red. Nose crinkled. Lips tensed in a snarl.

Bob leaned down on the table on his knuckles, his voice raised this time. “Carol!”

The woman in question swirled in the chair so violently that I thought she would fall out of her seat. She shrieked, “What do you want from me, Robert!”

I stood, evidence in hand. HR had scheduled an appointment with me, and if I waited too long, I’d be late. Down the hall, I could hear the sounds of her shouting. Being too far away, I couldn’t understand what was being said, even if I strained to hear. Although Bob deserved this, I hated to be the cause of a lover’s quarrel.

The walk to HR felt longer than it was. I was swerving between guilt and triumph. Was it worth it? I could become the reason Bob loses everything. Then again, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I? I stood up for myself. He wrote those emails. Even after I told him, ‘No,’ and, ‘Stop trying.”’

In the meeting, I gave Janice every inappropriate email Bob sent me. I answered questions and told her my side of the story. I was told there would be an investigation, as was fair.

Upon returning to my seat, I couldn’t help but notice that Bob was gone. He wasn’t even in his office. A small crowd surrounded Carol’s desk. There were shoulder pats, tissues handed, and words of comfort whispered.

Carol looked up as I entered the room. The scowls sent my way threw me off guard. I could understand it from Carol, I suppose. Bob was her husband, and I was interfering with their lives something awful.

But the crowd gathered around her was also scowling at me. I couldn’t believe it.

Assuming that they hadn’t heard the whole story, I returned to my desk, waiting for the office gossip to bark up my tree. Just as expected, after the crowd dispersed from Carol’s desk, Richard sauntered over.

“Hi, Rebecca. Heard you got into some trouble?” Richard said. That was the one and only thing I liked about the guy. He always got straight to the point.

Annoyance crept up and almost leaped from my mouth in the form of a, ‘Are you freakin’ kidding me?!’ But my calm prevailed. I struggled for words to say. HR had asked me not to discuss the matter with anyone. Unless someone else was at risk of harassment or assault.

“Well…” I hesitated, “Well, someone sent me numerous emails asking for something inappropriate and implied that could lose my job should I decline the request.”

<>Richard’s frowned, the worry lines making him look older than he was, “Oh.” He said . He seemed genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“I just…heard something different.” He said. “Thought you were the one sending inappropriate emails.”

I snorted, “No, I have all the emails to prove it.”

“Wow,” Richard said. “Sorry about that, Becca.”

I shook my head, “No need for you to be sorry. You didn’t send the emails.”

We small-talked for a bit before he walked away. His gait was more determined now that he had fresh gossip. An hour passed, and the harsh looks I had been getting softened .

A weird Monday, sure. A terrible start to the week. But nothing compared to the week after. HR requested a visit and I went enthusiastically, assuming it had something to do with my harassment case.

It did alright. Janice informed me the investigation was over, and no evidence of Mister Robert Dawson harassing me was found. To top it off, oh so beautifully, I was being let go for discussing the details of the harassment case.

I stared at Janice as if she was mentioning the weather, too shocked to feel anything, any emotion. It was like my soul had to step away from my body to process the news. To her credit, Janice gave me the time I needed. She even had the decency to look guilty.

After many moments of my casual gaze, she broke.

“Look, I know it’s unfair,” she said in a hushed tone. “But Mister Dawson has friends in high places. But don’t worry. When you’re looking for a new job, I’ll give you an excellent reference.”

“Oh, wonderful!” I exclaimed. I was aiming for genuine, but it came out as sarcastic as I felt. All Janice did was cringe. I thought I had more to say, but maybe my soul was still taking a walk. Or perhaps I realized it wasn’t entirely her fault. Bob did have friends in high places, and she was being toyed with as I had been.

Standing with as much dignity as I could muster, I said, “Well, I suppose I better gather my things.”

A sheepish look settled on Janice’s round, aged face. “We took the liberty of cleaning your desk. Your things are in the corner.” She said as she slid the letter of termination across the table.

My soul tapped me on the shoulder, informing me that anger was starting to bubble up. But, being overcome with the indignity of it all, I kept that anger in check. At least for now. There was no way I was going to grab my things and shamefully shuffle out of this building.

I turned around and gave the boxes in the corner a cursory look over. “Oh, I don’t see my…um, stuffed bunny. My grandmother gave it to me, so it means something.” My voice trailed off towards the end of the lie as I was already heading out of the room.

I sped down the hall, ignoring Janice calling my name. Entering the work area, I saw Bob standing at the door to his office. A charming smile, and a sly wink, as he chatted up a woman I didn’t recognize. She was probably my replacement.

Bob had been out of the office during the week of investigation. Seeing his face again, especially so chipper and unharmed, made the anger in me froth and simmer.

When Bob saw me thundering into the room, his smile dropped. My ex-coworkers went silent when they saw me. They concentrated on their screens, pretending to work. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I stood there, glaring at his ugly face.

Bob seemed startled, but then he smiled again. Victorious. “I see you’ve heard. Goodbye, Rebecca.”

That bastard.

I guess my soul decided to rejoin my body at that exact moment. I don’t remember grabbing the flower pot that was on the end table beside me. But when I saw it hurling through the air, I knew I had thrown it.

If Bob had moved a fraction slower, it would have hit him. Somewhere deep in my soul, I was grateful it hadn’t. I would have been facing charges if it had. For now, when the ceramic pot crashed and shattered against the wall, pieces falling to the floor, I was enraged at my lousy aim.

The crowd stopped pretending to work. They stood at their desk, gasping and whispering surprise. My replacement had jumped back and kept backing away as if she thought I was there for her.

“Fuck you!” I yelled. I don’t know if I was yelling at Bob or everyone in the room. I turned to leave, shoving Janice out of my way as I walked down the hall.

I could probably kiss that “excellent reference” goodbye, but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t over. Armed with the emails Bob had sent me, the letter of termination, and the constitutional right to inform the press, I was ready for battle.

They had declared war. But I was going to win it.