Ms. Lillian’s shoes padded down the archived stacks, overhead lights cooling to darkness in her wake. “Here Rainbow kitty! Time to go. There’s a bowl of kibble at home with your name on it!” Continue reading
Her bus was late.
Benny stood under the awning, doing his best to shield his dog with the umbrella. Nevertheless, the pooch got soaked. Continue reading
She rolls over, the soft hiss of middle-aged flesh sliding through 300-thread-count cotton announcing her change in position. She is surprised by the darkness of her bedroom and the numbers on her clock. The sunrise should have happened by now. She groans and swears and flops on her back, squeezing her eyes shut. Continue reading
Thick, dark, heaviness. There’s some comfort in that.
Lilimor gazed across the field of wild strawberries into the Great Wood. She didn’t have enough berries to fill her basket, but the fiddle called her to the waterfall within. Its song enticed, one she almost recognized and had to sing. Continue reading