She had finally done it. She had become a cantankerous old lady.
“Good night, Billy. Sweet dreams.”
“Daddy, wait! Could you check for monsters under my bed?”
“The dead, they’re like parasites. They wait ‘til you’re ill, ‘til you can’t defend yourself. Then they swarm in, like locusts after a bountiful crop. They attach themselves like leaches, feeding off our essence.”
Damn undertaker. This coffin was built for a midget, not a six-foot two ex-rugby player. He must have stuffed me in with a shoe horn. And the heat. If anyone’s coming to rescue me they’d
Revenge by Leanne Adler Good lord, please start, Gloria thought as her eyes roamed the busy room and she registered the faces of the colleagues she knew, the ones she didn’t and the ones she’d rather not. Three of the latter category were perched on chairs at her table, sipping the coffee that tasted like […]