Paula stepped away, holding back a scream when the neighbor who had just moved into the apartment above her entered the shared laundry room, saying softly: “Is there a problem?” (In the Laundry Room, continuing from last week…)
“Oh. Um. Hello! It’s Stefan, isn’t it? Hi. I’m Paula.” Paula nodded her head as if in a business meeting, berating herself silently. He’s creepy!
Stefan ignored her as he glared at the laundry in her hands. “I believe those are my jeans. And Darlene’s nightgown.” Continue reading
When Nora was young she allowed others to know of her difference. But many years ago she learned to keep her night-time charms to herself. Now, at 36 years, no doctors or therapists, no detectives or boyfriends could tell her what was “wrong” with her.
Absolutely nothing was wrong with her, and she kept it that way by keeping her secret to herself. Yes, she needed to be a solitary woman, but as a college professor, an opera lover, a hiker and a traveler, she could get out and about without colleagues figuring out what she was up to after midnight. Continue reading
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a story about a mermaid and a farmer.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE an essay on a magical moving pen.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a book about a ghost with a moving murmur.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a tale about a wolf and a wren who share a den. Continue reading
Even Janine is surprised when the trunk’s contents move with a big thump, but then she supposes that too many of them were placed rather haphazardly. After all, she practically threw them in, racing to her first destination. (see What’s in the Trunk).
The smoke has dissipated. The policeman looks as baffled as a man working on a 1,000 piece puzzle. A puzzle in the shape of books – dozens of books – piled together as if they’ve been kidnapped, or as if they have some nefarious reason for hiding in the trunk of Janine’s car. Continue reading
Debra unties the ribbon around the mysterious box and slowly opens it. Her puzzled look doesn’t leave her face when the side door rams open and two men enter. (https://roughwighting.net/2018/09/28/strangers-in-the-dark/)
“If you want to help your friend,” the stockiest man growls, “empty the box and show us the rest.”
Debra laughs, but not with humor. “Are you kidding me? You must be the agent Eugene told me about last week.”
The man’s face falls as flat as a bad soufflé. “He told you about me?” Continue reading