Three Short Stories
The published results of one year of creative writing classes
What opportunities has the pandemic presented you with? A chance to relax, to reflect, to recover? Time to sit with yourself and loved ones, either in person or virtually? Have you discovered a new hobby or three? Changed your perspective on the world? Have you learned the meaning of the words stress, trauma, and self-care?
I used some of my time at home to attend online classes at the City College of San Francisco. In both the Fall and Spring semesters, I took a fiction writing class and wrote some short stories. I am honored to have had three pieces published in the Fall and Spring editions of the literary magazine, Forum, and to be able to share them with you now (the Spring edition was published just last week).
The full stories can be read on the Forum magazine website. The beginning of each story is printed below.
The Dress Code
a non-fiction story by Sarah Johnson
The end of middle school had finally arrived and with it, the freedom to ditch our uniform and wear whatever we wanted for the last month of the year. The shedding of the school skirt was our most iconic rite of passage into high school. We chatted for weeks about which outfit we would wear on the first non-uniformed day. We would finally look normal, no longer broadcasting our affiliation with a prestigious all-girls school. Everyone smiled and relaxed, unbounded by the stiff blue skirt that had encircled our waists for the past four years.
The Friday before the change, the head of the middle school, Mrs. Rupert, gathered the entire 8th grade class in one room and announced that she would review the dress code with us. We looked at each other and repeated the words in whispers. There had been no mention of a dress code before. This was supposed to be our moment of freedom when we got the right to wear what we wanted.
She spat out forbidden styles: bra straps and exposed midriffs, low-cut tops and high-cut shorts, towering stilettos and flip-flops. She warned against inappropriate writing or images printed on t-shirts. Although we no longer wore the school skirt, Mrs. Rupert reminded us, we still represented our prestigious school and had to dress accordingly.
The most shocking part of the dress code was that skirts and shorts had a length limit: no shorter than the middle of your thigh… read more of "The Dress Code" at Forum
One Item Too Many
a fiction story by Sarah Johnson
One day at home, I discovered cash missing, sighed, and thought, “Well, now I have to end this.”
It was one more item than I could tolerate on the list of things you did to hurt me. A list that when tallied, added up to kicking you out of the apartment. Your emotional apologies couldn’t change this result. It was a conclusion reached by simple math. You committed one too many wrongs and so I was done trying to help you.
Now it was my turn to keep secrets from you. I formulated a plan to be carried out in two days. I would sneak home early, like you did all those months you pretended to go to work after you were fired. This time though, I would be waiting at home for you, not to ask how your day was and what you wanted to do for dinner, but to ban you from ever coming home again… read more of “One Item Too Many” at Forum
Objective: Civilian Life
a fiction story by Sarah Johnson
Pieces of the yellow stone wall thudded against his helmet as they fell. He cursed the wall and then the sniper who was baiting them, trying to coax them out into the open space. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked himself out loud. He asked himself at least once a day. Desert warfare sucked, but not as bad as returning to suburban life after his first tour.
For a year after returning stateside to his mom’s house, he tried to find work. He tried to relax. He tried to “suck it up, Marine,” as his Staff Sergeant always said, and fulfill his objective of being a civilian but the silence was unsettling. Without orders shouted at him, he was lost. He had been trained as a grunt, doing what he was told for four years. Without officers around, he didn’t know what to do.
As a civilian, he went through the motions of filling out applications and answering questions, trying to get jobs that didn’t interest him. He found fault with each one. Pay too low. Job too boring. Commute too long. Boss too much of a jerk. Once a week, when he went to the grocery store for his mom, he parked closer to the Marine recruitment office than the grocery store. He walked slowly past its windows, searching between the vertical blinds to see if the peace he needed was hidden inside… read more of “Objective: Civilian Life” at Forum
Thanks to my writing teachers, Steven Mayers and Cindy Slates, and my classmates for their encouragement and feedback. Check out City College San Francisco’s creative writing courses and other classes which are free for residents of San Francisco.