The station wagon pulled to a stop, prompting Claire to look up from her IPad (playing an old cartoon she watched when she was a kid) and out into the yard of the seemingly gargantuan manor. Pushing a stray few strands of blue hair from her eyes, she opened the door and stepped out into the chilly autumn weather. Hands immediately sought the warmth of her hoodie’s pockets while her jean-clad legs shivered from the frigid wind blowing up from the curving driveway. Leaves circled and frolicked about, carried by the wind, an endless sonata of silence serenading them as they cantered back and forth across the extensive lawn.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Bass was in trouble. He needed money to pay rent on his apartment, and he’d just spent what was left of his unemployment on food for his six-month-old daughter, Leah. The child was ravenous and growing larger by the day, as children are wont to do, and Bass was determined that his daughter would never go hungry. But now he faced the proposition that his daughter may be homeless for a while.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
I lean back as I admire the work that Amanda, my friend in the theater department who happens to do the tailoring for the costumes in all of the plays, has done on my Joker costume; Lurid purple with black pinstripes going down the legs, a pair of black suspenders and a green silk shirt with a purple jacket. Add to it my own shiny black shoes, and I have a great costume to wear to this Dead Girl’s Dance.