Casey Lewis-Jones
Fiction Writer,and Copy Editor Based in the NYC Metro Area
Connie looked down at the fountain pen in her grip, knuckles white and hands shaking. Anxiety and rage at her stagnation spilling down her cheeks, and hitting the hard dirt floor.
- excerpt from my short story "Constance" written in November of 2024
Ethel cracked open one eye, and glanced out the window through the sparse trees and saw a slice of moonlight. Too early to be awake she thought. Groaning softly she turned away from the pale light filtering through her window determined to get back to sleep. The cry of an infant barely audible floated on the night air from the front porch. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing the machete she kept underneath it in one fluid motion.
- excerpt from my short story "Firstborn" written in December of 2024