Oct
10th
10th
A short story about bricks.
I used to worry that people would forget me.
I worried that as soon as I left a room, people would forget they were just talking to me.
How long before you are out of sight that you are out of mind?
I don’t worry about that anymore.
Not since I realized I can throw bricks with my name written on them through everyone’s windows.
Now everyone remembers my name and they scream it as I pass by.
The roar of the crowd feels good on my face.
Read all of my short stories at thecasyedonahue.com/shortstories.




