David’s gloved hand slid over the frozen cable railing for balance, and Claire concentrated on her footing.
Tag: Mondays Are Murder
We huddled around the card table last night, scheming about dusting outta this joint during the morning bus trip.
“Thieves,” Officer Summers said, “are generally lazy.”
Near dawn I wake. / The pale blue light cascades over me. / It drills and spills down through me…
He fought the steering wheel as the old Pontiac struggled to keep its footing in the dense falling snow . . .
My elementary school invited me in for an assembly before I was set to leave. Kids made banners and gave me good luck cards.
This guy had a scar on his cheek as dry as the Arroyo Taiban.
She sat on the bench and watched the sun drip into the ocean. Barefoot couples stood on the beach and clicked their wine glasses in a toast to another beautiful day . . .