Thomasina squinted at the crisp autumn leaves blowing in through the broken window, scattering about the room. She’d never had any friends thanks the condition that gifted her with translucent white skin and pink eyes. But somehow, on this night, she found herself sitting on the floor of an abandoned hunting shack, with three girls she’d encountered earlier while walking through the woods. She jumped when one of them, the one named Helen, leaned forward, and spat, “Truth or Dare?!”
Read MoreIt’s me, reporting from the edge…the very edge.
Heels planted, toes curling over the side, eyes straight forward and fixed on the next step.
Step back? Step forward? Either choice could mean the end…or possibly the beginning.
Read MorePeople in the village were whispering about her, but she didn't care. Every day, she lugged her saw, a bucket, a homemade fishing pole, and bait across the frozen lake. Once there, she sat shivering while waiting for the telltale tug from a creature below the surface. This torturous task wasn't for the fairer sex but what choice did she have? On that particular day, as clouds and a north wind rolled in from the mountains, she was deep in thought about how she got to this point, so much so that she almost didn’t notice two little girls at the edge of the lake, shouting and pointing...
Read MoreThe air pressure changed suddenly as the wind started to howl. Yawning to pop her ears, Harriet glanced out the cabin window, and saw dark storm clouds racing over the hill. It looked like a bad one.
Read MoreDinah lit a candle in the carved turnip, and placed it by the window, casting the image of a ghoulish face out into the dark forest. She squinted through the glass but could only see the autumn leaves dancing across the stone path in front of her cabin.
Read MoreWhen she was a little girl, Irene dreamed of a future that included a life as a starving artist in New York City. And thanks to the wildly inaccurate portrayals of 20-somethings living in Manhattan on TV, her dream also included a loft apartment complete with funny, eccentric neighbors.
Read MoreIt was Sunday, my second favorite day of the week next to Monday. Monday meant school, my absolute favorite place in the world. In school I was smart, which meant I was important. I always had the right answers, I volunteered to help after school, I was polite and well behaved, and teachers absolutely loved me for it. Sunday meant Cream of Wheat, “Steampipe Alley,” the large colored section of the comics and most importantly Monday was just a night’s sleep away.
Read MoreEvery Friday evening, the Bell family could be found sitting at their dining room table looking like a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting. There was often a pot roast, or meatloaf or some other stereotypical All-American meal spread before them. And the conversation didn’t deviate much from three main topics: work, charity and football.
Read MorePatrick came home early from work for the first time in years. He had good news that couldn’t wait for his normal 10pm clock out time.
Read MoreAriel remembered the last time she saw Lizzie as if it were yesterday.
Read MoreCara sat on a park bench drinking her lemonade, the only reprieve from the blistering heat. Across the street, the phenomenon continued, just as it had every summer afternoon for as long as she could remember. The gift shop had always attracted a steady stream of tourists in the warmer seasons. They would file in, one after another, but no one would ever came out.
Read MoreThe last time Trent was driving down Main Street, past the 76 gas station, he was headed in the opposite direction. He was high tailing it out of town for bigger and better things, or so he thought. He never imagined he’d be back in White Ridge. But here he was, back with his tail between his legs. How could he explain what had gone so terribly wrong to his loved ones? Maybe he wouldn’t have to since his parents were dead, and he’d left his only real friend in the world behind in this piece of shit town to figure things out for himself.
Read MoreGuy perused the tabloids at the checkout whenever he was in line. He’d never told anyone that he bought every magazine that mentioned his mother. He kept a collection in a box in the closet. But he was surprised to see the latest headlines. Kiki Waller to Wed Terry Fleming! Could this be true? Was his mother actually going to settle down and commit to another human being? Katrina Watkins might have been capable of love. But Kiki Waller had ceased being Katrina Watkins 15 years ago. And Guy was convinced, Kiki Waller was incapable of love.
Read MoreCell phones all over the world simultaneously shrilled that morning. After scanning the emergency alert, citizens scrambled to gather their families and prepare. Meanwhile, in the national forest, there was no cell phone access. The Stephens family had just put out their breakfast campfire and were preparing for their hike, seemingly unaware of what was happening in the world around them.
Read MoreWhen I received a notification that someone named Troi wanted to connect with me, I instinctively cringed. Sure, it didn’t have to be her. It didn’t have to be that Troi. But I knew better. It makes sense that she would have found me. She had to be out by now. And I’m sure she thought a lot about me all these years. Lord knows that despite my efforts, I thought about her often.
Read More’m not really sure what made me take Tre up on his invitation to happy hour. It probably had something to do with the fact that in the time I’d spent seated in my cubicle outside his office, three months to be exact, I’d developed an atomic level crush.
Read MoreEven with the heater on high, and completely decked out in winterwear, he was shaking from the cold. His shoulders tensed as he peered over the steering wheel, dodging black ice and snow banks. He knew he'd picked the wrong time of year for this trip. When he’d pulled out of Grand Junction that morning, it’d been bitter cold and the road ominously dark. But it was too late to change his plans now.
Read MoreThe Albany Bus Terminal: quite possibly the saddest place on earth. And sadder still because it was Christmas Eve and apart from George, the surprisingly pleasant miscreant I met earlier, and the woman who worked behind the ticket window, I was the only person there. It was my own fault. And I wasn’t sure whether to be proud of myself for speaking up or angry at myself for not knowing when to shut up.
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