“Pansy, did you see what that meathead did?”
“No, Gracie, what?”
“He locked himself outside.”
“Again?”
“Yup?”
“Should we rescue his hairless butt and open the door?”
“That depends. Is there any bacon left?”
“Yup. On the counter.”
“Sorry, meathead.”
The water stung the cuts and scrapes along my arms. I inspected each one. Were they bites or scratches? No, just the rough and tumble bumps and bruises of a ...
Martin slipped his battered old pickup into neutral and turned the engine off. Ol’ Trusty coasted behind the bluff and crunched on the gravel shoulder. He wi...
Every day of the week he wears masks, trading one mask for another. His true self always guarded and held apart from the world of men.
Eunice set the picture of their Caribbean vacation on the side table as quietly as she could, trying not to wake him. She brought her fingers to her lips, ki...
