Her door is closed, the way Jim likes it. At night, after he's asleep, I open it. I don't want her to consider herself a prisoner trapped or chained to this house. She's been too weak to leave her room, but I want her to know she's free to roam about. CLICK IMAGE TO READ FULL STORY
Christmas Eve didn't go as planned. Instead of their intimate evening together, Paul surprised his wife by being creepy. Maya took control of the situation and put him in his place. Well, in several places...
"Christmas often brings joy, and other times, sadness. For Maya, the holiday meant the entertainment of her mother-in-law. Plus, the forced endurance of a long list of complaints. Where this woman was concerned, she would never be perfect for her son.
But, this was the night before that whole disaster would unfold. Tonight, she and Paul would exchange gifts with each other. Alone. The two of them. Fireplace. Wine. Maybe more. Maya smiled..." http://coffeehousewriters.com/thats-creepy-santa-part-one/
A little metaphysical irony... CLICK IMAGE TO READ
"Is she dead? Did you kill her?" Ellie paced behind the chair."
When Camille Abraxas moves in with her grandfather after her father's death, she discovers her family is the center of the town's supernatural lore and realizes it might all be the truth.
If you could put someone's name in jar and freeze them out of your life—would you do it? My latest published piece available at Coffee House Writers offers a little, or maybe a lot of dramatic irony. I hope you enjoy it!
"Sorry boy." The words play in an endless loop, though my mouth doesn't move. My plea for forgiveness is an incoherent mumble. Not that it matters. Finley is dead; he can't hear me. But, I say it anyway..
Continue reading at http://www.coffeehousewriters.com/omething-lurking-part-two/
"My house sits off a country road, miles from the nearest intersection, and even that road is remote. About three miles down on the left, my driveway juts off and wanders through the woods. Then the trees clear and give way to a full view of my house. Here, the days are quiet, barring the raps of woodpeckers and the cicadas' song. But, the nights take on a life of their own."
Continue reading at https://coffeehousewriters.com/something-lurking-part-one/