All Stories
School
My fingers have been trained on the pencil nub for most of my life, and yet I still hesitate to use my left hand for drawing, which only leads to me having a bunch of crumpled papers with wonky lines where I was trying to do a 'real' sketch while I actually just needed to show the teacher it wasn't me who scribbled 'I hate Mrs. Patel' on the ceiling fan in art class.
Public Places
In the fluorescent glow of the food court, I spill soup on my tie for the third time this week. A young girl in sweatpants points, unsure if she should intervene.
Work
My coworkers call me 'Excel Ninja' behind my back, not because of my impressive spreadsheet skills, but because I can turn a simple budget report into a work of art with judicious use of colour-coding and fonts. They're probably just messing with me, but every time I see the phrase 'Budget Update' in 72-point Arial bold, I feel a rush of pride and power.
Drinking & Parties
Sporadic bursts of laughter punctuated the room's thick silence like fireworks in a thunderstorm. It was probably the third or fourth time I'd spilled my drink, but nobody seemed to care – mostly because they were too preoccupied with trying to get the DJ to play their favourite song.
School
Sometimes when I'm walking to first-period class, I find myself lingering beneath my favorite tree where its gnarled roots push up through the pavement like ancient fingers. It's an odd place to pause, especially for one so habitually punctual, yet it holds me captive in a moment before the chaos.
Drinking & Parties
The fog from my forgotten whiskey hangs over the dance floor like a bad smell. I weave past strangers' shoulders, eyes watering from the smoke and cheap cologne.
Food & Dining
My aunt accidentally set off the fire alarm while trying to deep fry a dehydrated onion ring. We all had to evacuate, and as we stood outside, I realized I had eaten my last three dollar dinner on that very kitchen table.
Public Places
As a stranger, you don't usually see the little things about a place, like the way its tiles are unevenly aligned or the flickering fluorescent lights that seem to mock the idea of 'daylight saving'. But I noticed them all when I spent a weekend sleeping on benches here, at this station nobody calls home.
First Times
There were precisely three minutes and thirty-two seconds left on my parking meter when I realized I'd locked my keys in the car - on a day when the sky had decided to release what felt like the entirety of its accumulated rain since forever - and the parking officer looked exactly how one would expect a middle-aged man in a yellow jacket to look: skeptical. The smell of stale bread wafted from the nearby café as the owner's cat watched me with an interest akin to a spectator at a tennis match - my futile efforts to coax a glimmer of pity from him only made it worse.
Public Places
My sneakers squeaked on the polished floor as I awkwardly juggled a wad of tickets, a thermos, and my backpack in line for the Ferris wheel. I was desperate for a birthday pic to post, not for my social media following's sake, but because last year's embarrassing attempt looked suspiciously like a middle school yearbook photo from an inbred relative.
Misunderstandings
I tripped on the sidewalk this morning, my feet flying out from under me like I was in a slapstick comedy. My coworkers strolled by, trying not to stare, as I scrambled to get up without drawing more attention to myself.
First Times
The summer before college, I somehow convinced my family I belonged outdoors long enough to buy a kayak from a sketchy Craigslist guy on the side of the highway. As I stood on the dew-kissed dock, the kayak's flimsy plastic creaking under my nervous grip, my dad – still sporting a grumble from the morning's coffee – raised an eyebrow at the tangled mess of fishing twine and old boots tangled around my waist.
Tech Fails
There's a 4-inch patch of carpet between my laptop's keyboard keys and the coffee-stained cushion beneath it. I'm staring at it, wondering if this will be the time I finally fix the problem with my self-designed 3D printer.
Holidays & Events
New Year's fireworks exploded over Manhattan, but our apartment party had devolved into a lukewarm dance-off with the neighbor playing disco on repeat through the wall. It was exactly 5AM on January first; my family had given up on countdown excitement three hours earlier.
Strangers
My grandma's antique typewriter is in my laundry basket, which I'm using as an impromptu planter in the corner of my room. It's been two weeks since my aunt spilled an entire tray of Chinese takeout in front of her – my family's awkward milestones are accumulating like dust under my bed.
Misunderstandings
I'd been practicing my clarinet in the bathroom for what felt like hours, trying to perfect that one tricky note, when suddenly the landlord burst in to tell me about the leaky pipe. In the chaos, my clarinet slipped out of my fingers and landed on the edge of the tub, where it started playing an unsettlingly perfect rendition of "La Cumparsita." I frantically grabbed it back, feeling a mix of relief and terror as he shook his head, clearly thinking I'd deliberately used the instrument to distract him.
Awkward
I was buying a pack of gum and a pint of ice cream at 10:30 p.m. The cashier scanned my items and said, “Rough night?” I laughed awkwardly.
Bad Timing
My grandfather always says a fire is easiest to start on a windy day, but I discovered that a relationship works better on a rain-soaked afternoon. Our first date was on a drizzly Wednesday after classes, the smell of damp earth clinging to the streets, but my heart swelled in my chest like an overwatered flower pot.
School
My locker mirror had been fogging for weeks, until last Thursday when I accidentally inhaled a stray glob of ketchup from my lunch. It stung, but only after I'd taken three selfies.
Work
I'm mortified - I knocked over a tray of coffee cups in front of the entire office today. Cream was splattered on the conference room carpet, and I'm pretty sure the boss just raised an eyebrow at me.
Bad Timing
As I frantically juggled two overflowing plates of food at the fancy dinner party, the host's Great Dane simultaneously leaped onto my feet and sneezed a giant glob of snot onto my aunt's favorite silk handkerchief.
Dating & Relationships
Sometimes the smell of stale bread wafts up from my coat pockets and transport me back to the coffee shop date I had with Alex. We sat across from each other, sipping mediocre cappuccinos, trying to fill the conversation void with forced laughter.