Short Stories

     The children popped out of their grandparents’ Nash like champagne corks with energy bottled up during the long, arduous ride. Great Aunt Millie stood on the front porch steps…

     He texted, “TMR?”      An upturned thumb emoji came back immediately.      “845?”      “Sure.”      He sent a disturbing ghost, a skull, and a knife.      The next…

      Piled high and wide and tight with every belonging they owned, Brett’s Silverado pulled away from the apartment with a billow of dark, poisonous smoke streaming from the dual…

      “Are you claimed?” the sonorous voice inquired, seeming to appear from thin air. She twitched, dropped her rake, and clutched her hands to her breast. “Holy crap on a…