The Lark
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The Lark

Shelly Rising

Can he let go

Image Credit: A. Grace (Aly Pictured It)

His white sneakers are black with dark earth. Shelly is heavy in his arms. Stiff. Her skin is tight and pulled taut, giving her a grotesque smile, so unlike the goofy grin, she used to wear. Her hair dangles as lank and lifeless as her body. He lays her down in the clearing.

The aspen leaves quiver in the evening breeze. Their shadows claw at the ground. In their branches, he suspends…




The Lark shares fictional short stories and poetry

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A. Grace

A. Grace

Grace writes fiction & articles on various topics in the western U.S. She is also a photographer, dog mom, and nature lover! Buy her a coffee:

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