The Staircase in the Woods

by Chuck Wendig

Like he was just a shadow cast by her light.

Just clutter at the edges because he was trying to live an adult life in a place that was too small for it,

a poisonous plant grown up out of jealous earth.

almost venomously carefree,

Here she cleared her throat, because sometimes the truth wanted to get stuck there instead of working its way free.

In her was an orchestral crescendo of anger,

People got to share different parts of themselves with different people.