Category: Creative Writing

White bedspread. All my bedspreads are white. Something about white sheets has always struck me as angelic. They can be fresh from the laundry or two weeks unwashed and crumpled; somehow, they always lay perfectly on a bed, looking soft as a cloud, a mundane beauty shining in the changing light of day. It’s a…

            There is a store which Elise likes to walk past on the street parallel to her own. Its windows are dimly lit and display a variety of unusual furniture—rare antiques and vintage designer, she imagines, as the store hosts few customers and a French name: Les Petits Trésors. The air is cold and grey this morning…