Gene had always been a lucky guy. He attributed his luck to good genes, of which his family had an overabundance. He was fresh-faced and rosy, had a strong body and a sturdy build, and enjoyed health and happiness and… Continue Reading
I glanced into the prayer room, hoping it would be empty, but it wasn’t. Becky was there. The sun was shining quite brightly into the prayer room, and somehow Becky’s smile was brighter. Becky had invited me to pray with… Continue Reading
Midway through a fascinating article about converting goose poop into biofuel, Michael smelled smoke coming from the kitchen. The cookies! He’d totally forgotten about the special “I’m sorry for calling you a fascist” treat he was baking for Liam. With… Continue Reading
Gus (4’ 2”), Aidan (4’ even), and Sawyer (4’ 1¾”) spit into their palms, shook hands, and called the meeting of the Sycamore Street Clubhouse (No Girls Allowed!) to order. All three boys took a seat in the garden shed… Continue Reading
Dear Diary, Today was a normal day. I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock. Tried to make breakfast, gave up, and brushed my teeth. Walked out of my apartment to my car and drove to work. The… Continue Reading
“Chapter Two,” he read, “Language and Memory.” “Hang on.” “Yes?” “Guess what? “What?” “Chicken butt.” He sighed. “Guess why?” “We’ve no time for…” “Chicken thigh!!” She howled and fell off the stool, banging her fist on the carpet. He set… Continue Reading
Tom saw the smirk approaching. There was no way to avoid it. Worse still, it was spread across the face of Conor. If ever a snigger or sneer needed removing with the back of a hand, it would belong to… Continue Reading
Chip started out as a little bump riding Tom’s right shoulder blade. No fair, he’d whisper, Mom always buys Sally’s favorite ice cream. And, Jerry’s only popular cuz he’s got a pool. And, Prom’s for losers. Chip grew as Tom… Continue Reading
“No gargoyles,” said the opera conductor. “We take singers, strings, brass. No granite. Join a rock band.” I pulled the corners of my mouth to my ears and stuck out my tongue. Well, admittedly I’m carved that way. Thanks, Mason… Continue Reading
Spectators gathered beneath the multi-coloured bunting flapping overhead for the village’s Annual Chilli Eating Contest. A single long table dominated the green, the judges’ gazebo placed at its centre, pegged into the grass to stop it blowing over like last… Continue Reading