Sitting on this park bench, I am supposed to feel cold but somehow, I feel nothing except exhaustion and resignation.
Sitting in her car, Shelley debates whether she should go in.
“Welcome to the future!” A large headline flashes before me. I suppress a laugh.
With her hand in mine, my daughter and I walk toward the Ferris wheel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“How dare you destroy my precious piano?” Grandma? I wanted to say but my lips had turned to jello.
“My husband is missing, you must help me!” I pleaded in broken French.
I live in a doomed world, I think grimly as I huddle in the dark corner of the Red Mountain Market and Deli, my go-to grocery store some 20 years ago. Teeth clattering, hands shaking, I reach into my jacket pocket for my trusty bottle of Ibuprofen. Great, final two.
“Tell me how you find these again?” Jen asked.
“The scream, which occurs every day at precisely 3 PM, can be heard from a mile away.
“There’s got to be a way to stop this wretched winter!” Jezebel, the eldest of the witch sisters, said, slamming shut the thick book on her lap.
With one hand on the wheel, I undo my tie with the other. Just three hours before, I shouted, “I’m done,” and stalked out.
Chuy barked, tilted his head and sniffed the air. “What is it, boy?” I bent down and patted his head. Chuy barked again but before I could get a hold on his leash, Chuy shot into the woods. “Chuy, wait!” I yelled and ran after him. Running after him was like running after a car.…
“Jimmy, how many times do I have to tell you?” Mom said in her usual-nagging-southern-accent.
One, two, three, four, I count the seconds-pass mentally as I jab the piece of paper into the slot with my pen.
It was a minute after someone yanked the sack from his head that he registered his surroundings.
Nobody wanted the role. In fact, nobody in their right mind would had wanted the role. To squeeze your feet into those tiny-size-2-boots everyday for six weeks? No, thanks. Why couldn’t they cast a child for this role? The character is a child anyway. Is casting a child really this difficult? I thought angrily as…
He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Are you sure this train will take us to the North Pole?” Reggie shouted with his head stuck out the window.
“Where are you, girl?” She heard the angry man shout. “I know you’re here somewhere.”
“What are you going to do now that you’re retired?” His colleague asks.
I don’t know her name. I call her Anj because that’s all she ever says. “Anj Anj Anj.”
Genre: Dystopian The alarms shrieked the second I walked into the library followed by flashing red lights.
“I feel so stupid.” He muttered, smoothing his hair before putting on the baseball cap. “How do we even know he’s gonna show?”