“Time will tell.”
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
“There’s always light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”
“Your time is up.”
What, exactly, will time tell? Will it tell me that my days are numbered? Personally, I’d like to think that my days are worded. My days are stories, one-by-one as a child, then a dozen, then hundreds as the years roll on. 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
Nina climbed aboard the Acela, holding her overnight bag as well as the floral valise the stranger handed her before he took off in a rush. (At the Station)
She didn’t gasp until she sat down and opened the small case.
Why? Why now? Nina wondered as she stared at the photo inside the bag.
I accept an invitation to go speed dating.
At an old shabby restaurant in ‘the city’ on a rainy Saturday morning.
It’s pouring buckets as fifty other men and women, hoping to be the “chosen one,” enter the front door with shaky hearts and bodies.
We all have one thing in common. Continue reading