Sanctuary, eh?_The Trickster's Treat_Rich Dreams_Final Rest Cemetery
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Sanctuary, eh?
The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren’t, and we knew it. We were running away from something, and running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about www.onedoor.cctelling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting to stop at the next Rest Area because I really had to piss, but I know he’d just toss me an empty container and sarcastically say: “You’re welcome, dude.” Besides, I’m sure all the Rest Areas were closed. I decided to bypass that conversation with him, so I just wizzed in an empty Gatorade bottle. He turned up t...
The Trickster's Treat
‘Aren’t you cold?’ I ask the little girl who’s walking next to me. Her diadem wobbles with every step she takes. She insisted on being a princess even though her mother had told her that it might be a bit old-fashioned. She didn’t care. It was her fantasy from the first trick-or-treating she had to miss, and she was not about to let go of it.‘No, I’m not cold at all,’ she answers. Her cheeks seem to glow with excitement as she looks at all the children haunting the streets. Floating orange and red flickering lights seem to send laughter into the night. Her eyes flash from house to house, despe...
Rich Dreams
The sky was heavy and grey. It reminded Emma of the ugly sweater that her Grandmother had made for her last Christmas. It had ended up in her closet amongst the pile of stuff that she would never wear but couldn’t throw away without hurting someone’s feelings.A cool morning breeze made its way through the window, swirled through the kitchen and brought Emma a delicious smell of coffee, maple syrup and petrichor. She sat at the table, fiddling with her watch and tapping her heels nervously on the tiled, white floor. Today was the day. The day that her twenty-eight-year-old dream would finally c...
Final Rest Cemetery
“In the graveyard? That’s not what I had in mind when you said, ‘somewhere spooky,’” Anne complained, shifting her sleep-away bag to the other arm.“Did you think they were gonna let us spend the night in the haunted house?” Hazel retorted. “Besides, the haunted house isn’t scary anyway,” she added, turning back to the locked gate.“I thought it was,” Anne mumbled under her breath.Hazel ignored her comment and began to climb the fence to Final Rest Cemetery. Anne whined but began to follow her friend.The two had met in the first grade, six years before, when Anne had shrieked upon the sight of a...