Disappeared 11

Six Sentence Stories

“Oh my God,” Eloise moaned into the top of her knees, body bent into a sitting fetal position and thoroughly defeated by the twins’ repeated singing of the nearly out-of-control Shari Lewis and Friends song; she leaned into a deeper regret at having sent her brother Andrew off to the haunted mansion with only a broken flashlight and a box of three matches, and screamed, “Will you two just shut up?!” Continue reading

Disappeared 8

Bunch of carrots

Carrots. Original public domain image from Wikimedia Commons

Chuckie and Ducks were dropped back home at their mother’s, two days early. Stepdad mumbled about a work thing he couldn’t get out of.

Translation? The twins were too much, even for him. Continue reading

Disappeared 3

Six Sentence StoriesEloise leaned back, one hand on the steering wheel of her mother’s Ford Mondeo Wagon, and grew increasingly annoyed at the jam that stopped traffic for miles, as it did every Friday when she had to drive her young twin sisters to her mother’s second ex-husband’s home from the house they all shared with her brother, Andrew, and her mother. Continue reading

Disappeared 1

Six Sentence Stories

“Shit,” mumbled Andrew as his flashlight beam grew smaller and paler and finally winked out.

He’d gone too far down into the haunted mansion, alone and on a dare from his sister Eloise, and wasn’t sure which direction he was facing in the windowless basement, and strange drafts moaned from every direction. Continue reading