Annalise kept reaching out: to old friends, ex-lovers, estranged family. Apologies, affections, invitations. Her arms stretched, elastic, aching; across cities and years. No one reached back. One morning, she couldn’t walk. Her arms had outgrown her legs, dragging behind her like wilted bridges. She whispered, “I’m still here.” No reply. AJ Joseph writes microfiction. She’s been published in VSS365 Anthology (Vol. 1), 50-Word Stories, Paragraph Planet, and 101 Words. She also loves cats, which is legally required for writers of her genre. Follow her feline-approved fiction.

Having a roommate who can move objects with her mind is awesome. No more heavy lifting on grocery day. No argument about who’s turn it is to do the laundry, wash the dishes or scrub the toilet. Until she and her boyfriend fight. Utensils rattle in their drawers, plates chatter in the cupboards, the kettle screams on the burner. And the knives slide out of the block one by one. “Easy,” I say, forcing a smile. “None of your business. Get out!” she yells, popping the lightbulbs. Although I know she will clean up, at that moment, I hate her. Wai Mei Wong is an author who lives in Toronto. She likes to write stories that weave elements of paranormal, urban legend, and mysteries of human nature.