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Christa Leigh
Bio
Stories (21/0)
Black Moon
He was born when the Sun wrestled Gemini and fiery Leo loomed on the horizon. The stars never promised him much, the way he saw it. Maybe they held the backdrop of the universe in place, or maybe they were random balls of gas floating around waiting to collide. Maybe they were the whispered secrets of the gods, complex codes for understanding the past and predicting the future, but he found that theory amusing, at best.
By Christa Leigh14 days ago in Fiction
Storm Surge
These details are always the same: the water is growing in the distance, swelling and turbulent and pregnant with potential disaster; the sky above dark and starless. She stands above the earth; sometimes on a bridge or mountain, but usually it's the rooftop of a building. She always knows, without a doubt, that the water is coming.
By Christa Leigh26 days ago in Fiction
Waiting Patiently
I’m waiting for the guys from the City to come back and pour concrete in the sidewalk mold they constructed last week. I’ve always known the sidewalk doesn’t belong to me, but it’s technically in my yard, and they didn’t even bother to tell me they’d be tearing it up to fix something below it. I guess maybe when the good city of Aurora decides to fix a problem, they figure their benevolence is in the fact that they don’t make the homeowner pay for it, maybe?
By Christa Leigh3 years ago in Humans
The Art of Letting Go
Inevitably, in the course of networking, I get the question: What brought you to Chicago? The easy answer, the answer I give when the conversation hasn't yet reached any depth, is that I took a corporate position. Oftentimes this leads to follow up questions about where I came from, which tends to be far more interesting to people than what I do.
By Christa Leigh3 years ago in Journal
No Rest for the Wicked
I'm not ashamed of the fact that I hit a lot of milestones early in my life. I met my husband when I was seventeen and married him when I was nineteen. I was twenty when I miscarried a baby at eight weeks. That happened on a Sunday. I saw my doctor the following Monday morning. He performed an ultrasound , confirmed the absence of a heartbeat, and told me miscarriages are really very common and I was young. He cleared me to return to work the next day, and so I did. I worked at McDonald's at the time, for $4.30 an hour, and I had already violated the rules by calling in sick the day of the shift in order to go see the doctor. I couldn't dare take the next day off. Any mourning I'd be inclined to do would have to wait. Interestingly enough, the doctor never even mentioned my mental health, never pointed me in the direction of any resources for how to process what had happened to me, and at the time, the internet wasn't yet an alternative for information and support communities. So I just worked through it by working through it.
By Christa Leigh3 years ago in Journal
Disarm
He descended the steps to the basement timidly, each footfall an echo of winter on cold concrete. As he reached for the doorknob, the distinct smell of wet dog hit him and he paused; scrunched his nose, thought twice about going in. He was allergic to dogs. He might sneeze.
By Christa Leigh3 years ago in Fiction
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