Trail Sign by Lunchbox Larry | Flickr
An undecipherable sign beckons from the bottom of a neglected, steep pathway between houses. Ignoring the omen of long-forgotten patio chairs at the trail's summit, I grip the solitary, damp guardrail and descend. Cold air mists my skin. I soft-shoe over disintegrating, ivy-covered asphalt and a decade's worth of crushed eucalyptus leaves. Four wooden stairs spill down to the end, a finish line I must cross. They prove slicker than the mud, slipping away along with my balance. Bruises bloom before my feet slam against the sign's metal pole, halting my downhill careen.
At last, I read:
Rebecca Gomez Farrell still refuses to say "Bloody Mary" three times into a mirror, though she'll write stories about the people who do. Her first novel, Wings Unseen, is epic fantasy. Her shorter works appears in over twenty outlets, including Beneath Ceaseless Skies, PULP Literature, and Defenestration Mag. Social media: @theGourmez. Website: RebeccaGomezFarrell.com.