Burn these stories.

They've been the hot potatoes in my head, bounced between logic and emotion, leaving trails of elation and despondence in their wake. These trailings sit in a mental stew for days, months, years; eventually they transform themselves into what you see here. Catch these stories with an open mind, then pass them on;

Burn these stories.

Why this short fiction? We drop so many things climbing the ladders of success. Our pace increases; the roses we might otherwise have smelled have been paved over. These are stories from the concrete jungle; stories of urban tribes, stories about relationships, stories about irony. They have been snatched from the hurried and given their own breath. Their lives are short; they are born at the beginning and die at the end. In the meanwhile they burn ferociously, fueled by romance, doubt, disdain, and joy, and from the tendrils of smoke comes the odor of experience. Breathe; begin.

KRRanden writes short stories from Chicago. These short fictional stories sketch transitional moments in life. The events are fiction; the messages are universal.