
for Leah
I left Seattle because my friends were dying.
Nathan O.D.’d.
Rebel drove into a wall.
Pale Mary suicided down in California.
Kristal got killed in front of the Jack in the Box.
That was where Lindsey was shot the year before.
Mia — everybody knows about Mia.
Nathan O.D.’d. We were sitting around. We watched him shoot. He knew he was doing
too much. We knew, too. But none of us said anything, and Nathan … he knew what he
was doing. He was smiling, and then he fell over. The needle was still in his arm.
That was it, really. That was what told me to get out of Seattle.
What happened to Mia, too. Everybody knows what happened to Mia.
My mother thinks I ran because somebody molested me, or worse. Maybe somebody in
the family. Maybe my uncle or my cousin.
That never happened. I ran because my friends were dying.
Portland’s OK.
Micro Story by Jerome Gold
Image by Adam Strong
Jerrome Gold has published several books, as well as stories, essays, poems and reviews in a variety of journals, including Hawaii Review, Left Bank, Boston Review, Fiction Review, Chiron Review, and others.