Category Archives: Jen Rose

Lexi jumped at a sudden vibration at her hip and took two slow, hesitant breaths. Just her phone… and nerves. Carefully, soundlessly, she extracted it from her pocket, pulled her coat around it to block the light, and peered at … Continue reading →

I forgot how to wait Some time ago So in bursts I watch the world. Tiny scraps of thought Shot into fiberoptic threads Transmission to the eyes Of those who care to look. Friends and acquaintances And a stranger or … Continue reading →

Every day is the same. I rip open a pouch of freeze dried goodness and stare out the window. Darkness. Stars. Just another day on my ship. I float across the room to take a look at my crew neatly … Continue reading →

“You’re the worst vegetarian ever.” She sipped red wine with a smirk, her eyes following the waiter that carried their order away. A salad for her. Steak for him. “People change. The iron’s good for me.” “Then maybe you should … Continue reading →