Dawn turned to Dusk.
Dusk turned to Dawn. Six times.
And then I could wait no longer.
So I ignored psychic Aurora’s “suggestion” to go on as if nothing had happened. Too much was at stake. (See last week’s Fear of Dawn.)
I blamed Todd, of course. His pursuit of me had seemed so genuine until I realized that his professed love was actually “gem”uine. Continue reading
This time, I choose to not answer the phone call.
I’ve had 13 of them, one every morning, at precisely 10:59 a.m.
The number does not identify the caller, so it’s no one I know. 277-453-6657.
When I take the call 13 days ago, I figure it’s a solicitation, but then again, it could be from Hollywood, accepting the screenplay to my latest book.
But instead, a deep, husky male voice proclaims: “I know what you did.”
Then, a click and silence. Continue reading