Short Stories
A Christmas Accident by Annie Eliot Trumbull AT first the two yards were as much alike as the two houses, each house being the exact copy of the other. They were just two of those little red brick dwellings that one is always seeing side by side in the outskirts of a city, and…
I’ve been caught up in your lies. I’m not the spider but the bug who waits to get swallowed in your web, those delicate strands. Yes, I’m wrapped inside where everything tends to hang.
When it’s all said and done, only a simple truth remains. This applies to so many situations, it’s not even funny. For my situation, it definitely isn’t funny… Not funny ha-ha anyway. It is a little funny, though. Maybe that’s just my hysteria kicking in.