On a good day she could get out of bed and not worry about someone banging on her door with a wooden spike and sword.
Everyone thought she was crazy watering her yard with a hose. It wasn’t like she had a lawn. It was all bark and flowering plants.
Short Story Sunday: Harvest Out in the garden it was a tomato forest with plants taller than I am. Pumpkin vines escaped the raised bed boxes
They peeled off their colorful daytime skins and slinked into their beds only wearing the plain underskins of their species. “Those are clothes. It isn’t
Max heard the Nessun dorma ringtone and groaned. It was his brother Andy. It was an emergency. He could sense it. He picked up and listened. “Max,
Constantine Jones sat on the bottom of the museum steps wondering what just happened. Earlier that evening he’d put on his best Armani suit, a