The Memorist looked tired; exhausted even. It was an exhausting thing she did for people, taking on their memories.
Joanie watched as the thick, white liquid spread across the table. The shards of glass glistened, peeking through a little.
The Rain had begun on the first day of her Reign.
"Mommy? Why did you give me such a sad name?" Rain asked.
I've had the privilege of having a poem and a drabble published in The Sirens Call eZine Issue #41 - Halloween Screams and Other Dark Things, available for free download today!
100-word story Alice is leaving tonight.
100-word story I settle into the soggy grass beneath me; above her.