Blue House

flash fiction by Shaw Carey

I never sleep as well as I do when the train is surging through our bones. I tell my mom it eats us alive, and we both know it's true. Its loud brakes never bother you. You sleep through it every time. But it comes every fifteen minutes, and the sound of metal on metal seeps and saturates my dreams.

Your house is alive. Alive in the way it glows at the e…