“At least we caught it early.” I offer a box of tissues to Renee Halloway as we stand outside her son’s hospital room. When she doesn’t grab it, her husband John takes the box instead.
I hate giving bad news. It wrenches my stomach every time I have to say cancer.
The dark market never changed. Even after sixty years, the rickety stalls seemed apt to blow over at a breath, and the sun unable to penetrate the dark shroud.
Penelope halted at the edge of the alleyway. Jack’s voice echoed in her head––“I want an orb!”––and her staunch response––
Bright signs decorated with gleeful peaches and grinning ears of corn advertised a local fall festival down the road. Tempting. Justin was more than ready for a break. The constant whoosh of hot air blasting through the car’s open windows for three days made for two cranky children. Cranky father, too.
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I narrow my eyes at the porker rooting through a box of graham crackers on my kitchen floor. Today, your reign of terror comes to an end.
The potbelly pig chomps down on another package of crackers. I crouch, inching past the cupboard door that hangs lopsidedly from busted hinges, victim
Kay studied her notes while the sounds of the alien planet filled her spaceship. Wind whistled through the sugar reeds, sand blew across the dunes, and water lapped along the shore. Birds called out as they took flight, and a chorus of insects chirped in the background.
“The ambience of Ailuros is beautiful,
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