The guitar would cost extra. Liam tallied up the baggage costs in his head. His son usually forgot something important like underwear or Ted Bear. Liam didn’t remember seeing Ted last night when he tucked his son into bed, though.… Continue Reading
They’re halfway back home before either of them says anything. The late Sunday afternoon traffic is light, but they’re stuck behind an Eddie Stobart lorry and the road is too twisty for Tim to get past. “Well,” says Angela eventually.… Continue Reading
“Please,” he says, and I hear the desperation in his voice before I turn around. “Please, can you help me? I’ve lost my granddaughter. Please, can you help…?” I remember the day that Alice disappeared in the supermarket; I remember… Continue Reading
I hate driving in snow, Margret thinks as she dumps a bag of ornaments onto the passenger seat of her car. She doesn’t even know why she does this. David’s been gone six years now, and their spoiled brat children… Continue Reading
The invitation flashed in his Facebook notifications. Spam, obviously. But… it had a picture of a Star Wars grinch. Star Wars! His palms grew sweaty. Back at his mom’s house, his Luke Skywalker costume still hung in the closet of… Continue Reading
It was the only toy her daughter had wanted for her birthday, but Erica had been reluctant to buy it. Because Furbies gave her the creeps. Erica lifted the cardboard box to get a closer look at the Furby. It… Continue Reading
Ten spiraling stone steps led down to the dungeon. I dashed down them, the flames of the wall sconces wavering with the wind of my passage. Although I still held my sword at the ready, I found no one left… Continue Reading
The breeze was cool, bracing, a stark contrast to the sun on that autumn day, beams of heat blasting through the treetops and warming me intermittently as we walked through the forest. The wide path through the trees was hemmed… Continue Reading
“It’s not that simple, Charli! I can’t just tell them that I don’t want the kid! That I’m too young to handle this responsibility and don’t want it anyway! It’s a child, Charli! It’s my niece.” “I understand that, Maddox!… Continue Reading
Jolly was the word for four-year-old Joyce. Chubby-yet-energetic were three more. A bright, playful male child — despite the androgyny of his name — Joyce’s fascination with the sensory perceptions of life made it all the more appropriate a reference… Continue Reading