Paranormal
Gone
I don’t believe in ghosts. I’ll tell you that right out. Woo-woo on the Internet? Spirit hunters on TV? It’s all a load of bullhockey. When you’re gone, you’re gone. My wife, now she’s another story. Martha’s the kind of person who looks for the Virgin Mary in her French toast. There’s nothing that woman…
Read MoreVisitor
It was after midnight when my ex-husband pounded on my door. I shouldn’t have answered. I know that. But I’ve always been an idiot where he was concerned. I opened the door and stared. Torn shirt, tie flung over one shoulder, face covered with cuts and scratches. “L-lauren.” Greg braced a forearm on the door…
Read MoreCat
They say a cat can steal a sleeping person’s breath. I don’t know about that, but I do know this: when I woke up this morning, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe, but that didn’t hold me back any. I got up and brushed my teeth. Pulled on shirt and pants. Drank a cup of…
Read MoreGlasses
I need glasses. Not because of what I can’t see, but because of what I can. I duck into a one-hour place. It’s not crowded, thank God. Just a lady in blue fussing with frames, and a guy in a suit pacing the waiting area. “Colors,” I tell the optician. Gary, his name tag says.…
Read MoreChime
Windchimes. So many people love them. So few know what they really are. The ringing stings. No matter how many times I get called to a gig, it takes a couple seconds for the crap feeling to pass. Eventually, I shake it off and look around. Big house. Suburban. Wealthy. But then, it usually is.…
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