Mama’s face lit up when she spied me through the old screen door. “Well hello there, Sugar.” She said. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” “Hello Mama.” I replied. “May I come in?”
Terry waited for Julie to pass before emerging from the shadows. “Hello, Michael.” he said coldly. “Terry! But you… you’re…”
Tick The room was quiet, oppressive. The sound of her own breathing filled her ears.
The worst part about the apocalypse isn’t the zombies.
The first time I disappeared, I was six. One moment, I was sitting at the table eating spaghetti with my family, the next moment I was gone. Just like that; now you see me, now you don’t.
Snow. It means so many things to so many different people. It speaks of magic and Christmas and the sound of children’s laughter; it speaks of cold and darkness and death.