Tiny Smuggler – by N.E. Rule
“You’ve already searched me and found nothing,” Sam says.
Read More Tiny Smuggler – by N.E. Rule“You’ve already searched me and found nothing,” Sam says.
Read More Tiny Smuggler – by N.E. RuleIn the summer, it’s not dark until well after he should be asleep in bed.
Read More I Miss the Stars – by Melissa Grace ReeveI arrive in a midnight storm bursting from an angry cloud
Read More When Will You Drink from Me Again? – by Valerie HickeyThe gorse bush, where my fingers were currently buried, jutted out from the slab with a brash confidence.
Read More Grit and Determination – by Alex ClareEventually, the trees end abruptly and you are at the lake, an expanse of white, bounded by trees and ice-encrusted granite.
Read More Ice Fishing – by Stephen GarrettThe final pic, October 31st, has the caption “He’ll be the death of me.” The photo is a close-up of Stephanie’s face.
Read More Her Best Friend’s Guy – by N.E. RuleListening to Morgan playing through her pieces, I began to feel that familiar jealousy creepy into my stomach.
Read More Avocados and Ambulances – by Sarah Elise PettigrewShe looks beyond the fire to the flat surface of the lake. There is little in the way of moon and stars tonight, but lights from the lodge on the opposite shore glimmer on the water’s skin. In her eyes, the dancing amber flames ripple.
Read More Split – by Jay McKenzieOn the day in question, the four seniors, packing cellophane bags of caramel corn, presented themselves at the circus tent early to take their seats in the back row of the floor section adjacent to the centre ring. A family of four was in the front row, trying to settle twin four-year-old boys each seized with fear at being so close to the action. Hank studied the scene as if this were one of the circus acts.
Read More Ditchmoss – by Andrew ShaughnessyThe band leader saw the flame first, signaling his musicians to begin playing “Stars and Stripes Forever,” or what circus folk used in code for “emergency.”
Read More Weary Willie – by Bethany Bruno