Shancia Speaks: Short Stories Superb!

Shana bolts for the brown, glass, front door, charging this wooden enemy that stands between her and her inside world. Her ardent breaths get louder as she reaches the door's guarded lock. She sharply inserts the key and twists quickly, relief at the famous click which announces that her safety awaits. At the cackle of the just the first creak of the old hinges, she pierces gratefully into her Holy sanctuary. The beige walls tune their ears swiftly enough to hear her whisper “Amen”. Then one by one, the masks of “I’m fine” and “I’m doing okay” and "I got this" start to slide off the truth of her face and as they fall against the cold, white tiles, the reverberation leaves her stunned. Her shoulders shudder as she steps inward, still stealing a chance to take in the alluring scent of welcome. Here in this sacred space, Shana feels free to unveil herself of the portraits she has painted for society’s canvas.   Public enemy number one awaits however, an opponent, who for y...

 "Sale, Sale!" the woman announces boldly as she shakingly pounds the hammer against the stake to secure the red "Sale" sign in the ground. Today she is finally going to do it, it is time. "Sale, sale!" the woman calls out again, "One heart for sale!". There are a few people who pass by, mouths agape in astonishment and then disdain. "A heart for sale?" asks the first prude, for she could not fathom how someone could live without one. Hours pass by and the people all pass by and peer sternly at the red sign, all quickly turning away. But then, a stranger stops. Curiously, he approaches and he asks softly, "why is your heart for sale?" The woman relentlessly wipes her tears and beckons to the stranger to have a seat. She then says, "if I tell you a story, will you buy it, my heart?" The stranger is intrigued and so he listens. Her father was the first one to discard her heart. He did not care that her heart was still ...

 "Goodnight," the masked man greets at your door, for he has come to pay you a visit. You blithely welcome him with a smile, and as he makes his entry, his true motives are hidden by a ravishing, enticing grin. How innocent you are, for you know not what lays await and as you turn to shut your door, "Hello, I'm Envy" he sharply announces.  Piercing eyes and tailored, practiced strides instantaneously sweep your landscape, looking for something to compare, looking for something to judge. He will not let you be content, this Mr. Envy, for his greatest accomplishment is to point out a flaw, something to make him believe that he is better than you, a relic to discredit your worth. His slivering tongue now protrudes slowly, and his lips curl upward to reveal his treachery as he asks you about your latest purchase and unknowingly you respond. Then just like that, Envy turns around to face you, nose flaring and he declares "I wanted to get one too, but certainly n...