Just so: A personal essay

My mom and I do this a lot. She’ll pick up an old piece of mail or a fading receipt or some other piece of scrap paper or plastic from my desk and ask me what it is. I’ll shrug. She’ll ask if I still need (or have any important
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A group of people sit in front of computers.

Happy Hour: A short story

For a boutique furniture franchise operating out of Irvine, California, Will felt the company’s value on gossip was too high. He hadn’t known when he first applied to DECOR, but after his first month of slinging artisan ottomans to suburban newlyweds and recent law school graduates, he began to understand
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Three empty office chairs sit in a white room.

Broken chair: A short story

A slam. Claire never thinks to shut the door slowly. It’s just me, you and the sound of your rapid typing permeating the silence. I’m not sure why it feels colder in here. I try to focus on my own work. Painting serenity is harder than you’d think. Serenity? It
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