Challenge! Contest Time!
- Thread starter RJ Garside
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Riggs was pressed against a tree in the silver light of a full moon, waiting to see if he would have to kill a man. They used to call the full moon a thief's moon, but in this case, it was just a coincidence. Riggs was as big as you could be and still blend in as average.
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Naked witches.
Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating a circle of writhing, nude women. I scanned the group, wondering how a mild-mannered psychologist like me wound up standing bare-assed in a remote field in the foothills at midnight with a coven of witches.
Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating a circle of writhing, nude women. I scanned the group, wondering how a mild-mannered psychologist like me wound up standing bare-assed in a remote field in the foothills at midnight with a coven of witches.
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“You should really take care to lock your door.”
The voice, velvety as the shadows, caressed my skin. I smiled but didn’t turn toward Robert.
The voice, velvety as the shadows, caressed my skin. I smiled but didn’t turn toward Robert.
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The raindrops slowly descending Matt Pearson’s face showed no sign of stopping. Just like the semi-torrential downfall he’d stood in for the last hour. His current location proved to be the closest he’d gotten to Cristian (Jefe) Polanco, who contrary to his name no one who knew him could or would call him a Christian.
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I awoke to the sound of seagulls and the memory of having died again.
Of anything other than that, I can say nothing, because my mind is a ship lost in the fog. I opened my eyes, but nothing changed.
Of anything other than that, I can say nothing, because my mind is a ship lost in the fog. I opened my eyes, but nothing changed.
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On the morning of their eighth wedding anniversary, Flora Austin watched her husband drive away. Beneath a blue sky, the sun warming her back, her husband passed the lilac bush planted alongside their house, now grown wide and almost her height. The crackle of his tires sounded like sharp raps of raindrops on glass as he drove over the damp dirt and stones.
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I could smell the magics emanating from the house from a block away. Most large gatherings had someone or something with a little magic. That was just statistics.
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The sun was up just enough to be in my eyes as I turned right off the highway onto the road leading to Rimview Bed and Breakfast. My new venture had kept me busy for the last six months and I was ready to put the finishing touches in each room of the renovated farmhouse before my first guests arrived next week. There had been some glitches.
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Barbara Sheridan
Author in Residence
Shani Gordon stopped walking and shivered beneath the blazing sun. It took her a moment to realize the wail echoing in her ears was the distant blare of a train whistle and not the echo of her own screams from the night that would forever haunt her.
Banishing the dark memories, she continued on toward Heyward’s Hotel, the words of her late parents’ dear friend, replaying in her mind.
Banishing the dark memories, she continued on toward Heyward’s Hotel, the words of her late parents’ dear friend, replaying in her mind.
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