“Have you ever wondered how much skin weighs?” The question floated from my car’s speakers as I raced down the expressway, heading home from college for Thanksgiving break.
I rolled my eyes while answering Madison. “Yes, that question is on my mind all the time.”
She’s used to my snark. “You’d be surprised
I don’t sleep anymore.
My apartment is cramped, little more than a closet. Space enough for a few childhood mementos and some clothes, nothing more. No bed.
I was ten years old when I woke one morning to a blazing house and my parents burning alive and myself unscathed in the middle of it all.
They come to me for the dreams—bubbles of florescent light that pop behind their eyelids and reveal an elsewhere. They don’t even care where they go. They just don’t want to be here.
I understand. With Earth a hair’s breadth away from total annihilation due to alien laser beams, I get the need…
Ajani perched on the cart’s edge, his feet dangling, as Baba’s animals ate in their cages. The evening shadows stretched as the sun descended and the troupe packed up their tents.
They should be preparing their acts and hoping for a crowd, not leaving after only a few days. And at night?
The bailiff stood. “The day has come for all to rise before the judge, I fear. We know the reason we stand here.” When the highly honored and revered Judge Justice appeared, the court rose to its feet. As she sat, all sat with her, and the deliberations began. The prosecutor was the
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My fingers hover over the ivory keys, and I smell smoke. I don’t have to strike a note to hear a sound. But it’s not a clear, crisp middle C ringing in my ears—it’s screaming.
The memories flooding my mind haunt me more than any discordant melody ever could.
Humans are frightfully underwhelming creatures. It’s a wonder they managed to evolve at all.
Yet the nature of this planet warrants investigation. And since the one human who might have been useful was found murdered this morning, fraternizing with the wildlife is an unfortunate consequence.
Like now, for example. The way the human brandishes
Slade Cartwright adjusted the scope on his Sharps rifle and awaited the Devil’s stagecoach. The Texas Ranger tipped the brim of a sweat-stained hat, swigged from his canteen, and wiped perspiration from his forehead. Mesquite trees and cacti provided limited shade underneath the unforgiving sun, but he made do amidst the desert rock outcropping.
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Herman McMillan was the best detective in the history of crime, and I was the only one who knew it.
There was that time he found a murderer hiding in the air vents of a drugstore after using his dachshund to follow the scent of the cheeseburger left in the victim’s apartment. Another time McMillan returned
Jon ducked into Mrs. Winslow’s English class just before the bell. The red paint had been scrubbed from the door, leaving behind just a few stubborn smudges. Jon willed himself not to look, but he couldn’t avoid a glance or two. It wasn’t every day that a guy committed the perfect crime.
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Frank lowered the binoculars as dusk began to settle, washing the desert skyline with its somber orange hue. In the valley below, the portal swirled; a bright cerulean whirlpool sparkling against the dying embers of daylight.
He rubbed his eyes as footsteps approached from the crest of the ridge.
“Woo boy! This climb
I was feeding the fish in my garden this morning when my left arm went numb. Then my legs crumpled underneath me, and I collapsed by the koi pond. I couldn’t catch my breath. Am I dying? Frantic, I started thrashing around—and slapped myself in the face with what used to be
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