Judah Mahay, Author
  • Short Stories,  Works

    The Meaning of Rocks

    The bottle slides from Illya’s delicate fingers, landing amidst wild and lush grass. She pinches the long green stocks with her bare toes. It’s soft, like a never ending fur made of life. The early dew coat her feet with chill. She doesn’t notice. “What’s this?” Illya picks up a rough stone, her youthful hands cupping its dark oval shape. A feeling itches at the back of her senses, tempting her out of reality. The rock gains meaning and changes before her eyes or is it in her eyes. It matters little to her. Even the obvious lie before her does not dissuade. This is what she wants and her…