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"Apartment 5C"

"The apartment isn’t much, stiff wallpaper frayed along the stairwell where hands have passed over it during every ascent and descent since its erection in the fifties, rips visible under the pale spark of a grimy lamp that hangs in the corridor, always rocking with a steady creak-pop-creak, though I’ve never felt a breeze in this portion of the complex and the fixture is too high to touch . . ."

Taylor Adel

Houstonian and author Taylor Adel began her writing career (officially) with her first publication in 2016. The short story, "Drifter", appeared in the Five:2:One online literary magazine.

Ever since, she has continued writing shorts that vary between literary fiction, magical realism, horror, and more. Taylor Adel's stories have a tendency to draw from her southern roots, a culture bathed in blood and manners.

 

Makes for a great combination, wouldn't you say?

So,  go on, take a read! Or learn more about the author's life, inspiration, and future goals.

A Little Bit About

What's Going Down in H-Town?

COVID-19 Blues

Due to Houston's participation in safe social distancing, there are no in-person events at this time. However, if you are not in a community critique group, now is the perfect opportunity to reach out and join and local gathering. Many groups are still taking place via Zoom, Google Meets, etc. 

 

Keep writing and stay motivated! 

Writing Thoughts

Despite the misconception of the "struggling, isolated artist", many writers depend upon a change of scenery to gather inspiration or avoid distractions. Now that we're spending so much time in one place, our Muse might be harder to find. 

To keep yourself motivated, find a writing buddy! Keep count of one another's daily or weekly words written, send different warm-up prompts, and video chat for a virtual write-in.

Story Spotlight: "Foxy"

"Walking to the keg, I feel their eyes. The predators. The ones that come before the scavengers, teeth bared and fangs dripping as they assess the most efficient way to end the life before them. I play dead, filling a new glass and pretending I can’t hear the hissing as they flick their tongues. 

 

Slut, they whisper. Whore, they snigger amongst themselves, forming a tight and impenetrable circle for protection. The waitresses cluster together, examining my every move, judging my appearance, waiting for me to stumble so they can pounce. The vultures were easy enough to fend off—at least while I was alive."

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