I sip on a lovely glass of stress every morning in my kitchen as I stare at the tile floor. I remember how…
Dad is a vampire. Not just any vampire: Count Dracula. The classic Dracula he read in the original text. The one by Bram Stoker. He got his ears…
Paulina limped painfully across the dimly lit hospital hallway. The simple act of breathing the strong, musky air hurt her badly injured…
“Excuse me, sir.” The wheat-colored hair man says to the gruff sailor.
“Tonight, when I was walking home from an interview, an old woman approached me.” I whispered calmly.
I’ve always loved the clouds. They’re so dreamlike and set the mood so easily. Sometimes they make one feel like the storm they…
“What?” I stammered, perplexed.