Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

The Figaro

Posted by melissa kandel on June 5, 2017 in creativity, Fiction, travel | No Comments

Of all the details to remember, her hands were still the clearest in his mind. Unpolished nails of otherworldly innocence, intoxication by way of ten fingers and smooth skin and a wrist circled with Rolex Sky-Dweller gold, limited edition. Back to her hands. What did he later call them, windows to her soul? They appeared […]

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Moonlight Serenade

Posted by melissa kandel on April 19, 2017 in Fiction | 9 Comments

By Melissa Kandel There was no way around it: Luna had lost the moon. The revelation was quick but biting and it happened last night around dusk. She had been sitting with her cat, Marama, on the hill overlooking a town fading to pale, evening blue and there assumed her usual moon-watching position: Luna tucked […]

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Annalee

Posted by melissa kandel on March 28, 2017 in creativity, Fiction | 4 Comments

Annalee was her name. I say was because she’s no longer with us but you should know she was my Aunt Annalee and she was forever saying strange things to me like, “You’ll never understand what’s sitting inside or outside the ocean, so the best you can do is try.” “Yes, Aunt Annalee,” I’d reply, […]

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The Disappearing Act

Posted by melissa kandel on March 20, 2017 in Fiction | 2 Comments

For the third week in a row, Janet forgot to shave her legs. The first time she forgot was on a Sunday when she was changing into her swimsuit for Joel’s pool party. Janet looked at her legs as she slipped on the pink bottom to her tankini and after noticing the small granules of […]

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Letter to the Editor

Posted by melissa kandel on March 10, 2017 in Fiction | No Comments

HEREAFTER the subject of women’s underwear will not be treated in the letter-press of THE LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL. The editors have reached this conclusion for the following reasons: First, the changes in this part of a woman’s wardrobe are not either sufficient or material enough to justify extended chronicle. Second, the practical art of making […]

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In The Bag

Posted by melissa kandel on March 9, 2017 in Fiction, literature | No Comments

His skin was old and ashen. Not ashen like a cigarette but ashen like the scorched embers of a campfire that had been left burning too long. Nikolai was the exact opposite: A tan-skinned, lanky figure of twenty six, with sun-dipped curls in his hair and a bright rose to his cheeks. They were the […]

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Sincerely and With Feeling

Posted by melissa kandel on March 7, 2017 in Fiction | No Comments

As the black crow flies, so too does the luck of anyone brazen enough to steal from the Painted Desert for the sake of a vainglorious because I can. Such a creature of inordinate vanity cannot, by the laws of moonlight and the writs of sunshine, remain unpunished for very long. He (let us use […]

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The Tale of Astrid the Beautiful

Posted by melissa kandel on March 2, 2017 in creativity, Fiction | 3 Comments

Somewhere in the untamed French countryside near Versailles, on the border of all that was good and evil, once sat a small patch of wild lavender, and just beyond, a smaller spring. An accidental journey brought Astrid to this spring, its water tumbling like wet poetry across flowering earth. She was in the shrubbiest part […]

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Revelation Underground

Posted by melissa kandel on February 23, 2017 in Fiction | 2 Comments

Making its way toward 59th Street, the subway was but a metal serpent slinking beneath Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Moments before, the doors of the 1 Train had slid open and four or five sleepy passengers emerged, settling with their foil-wrapped deli lunches onto blue plastic seats. It was the dance of the morning commuter […]

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Pizza Cat

Posted by melissa kandel on February 14, 2017 in creativity, Fiction | No Comments

I did not feel very Monday Warbly tonight so instead here is a strange tale I wrote about a food kind of animal … enjoy? – Melis The rumors are true. The Pizza Cat is real. How do I know, you might ask, skeptical gleam in your eye, that such a creature exists? Have I […]

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