Little Rooms. Trap Doors.
Little Rooms. Trap Doors.
1,501 or more
The war lasted 47 minutes. The first missiles rose from their hidden silos in the Great Plains before dawn. The next wave launched from submarines lurking silently in the Mediterranean Sea. The last warhead arrived before the morning news had…
My mind wanders to a faraway place as the speaker on stage spins fanciful stories of miracles performed and prophecies fulfilled. “He’s a modern-day prophet,” said my best friend, Dave, who convinced me to come to this revival crusade tonight…
I type: “Good morning, Aileen. How are you doing?” The black screen flickers to life with eerily fluorescent green words. “Good morning, Joshua-0918. I am doing very well, thank you, and ready to assist you today. How can I help…
I sit cross-legged on my bed and contemplate the lonely night ahead. It’s Christmas Eve, and of all nights to be alone, tonight is the worst time for a 16-year-old to be by herself. And tomorrow will be even worse.…
As I watch a televised game between the Giants and Nationals at San Francisco’s Oracle Park, the announcers flashback to the historic 2007 moment when slugger Barry Bonds hit his 756th home run against Nationals pitcher Mike Bacsic, breaking Hank…
Taliya rocked slowly in her chair on the front porch, sipping a frothy cup of hot chocolate, awestruck by the dazzling panoply of yellow, red, and orange hues that painted the evening sky like masterstrokes from an artist’s brush. She…
“Nice seeing you, Joel. Have a great day!” Joel chuckles, or is that a smirk? Hard to tell. “You too, Albert. Have a great next 24 hours.” With those words, Joel Amos goes on his way. I walk to my…
I let out a whoop. “Whoa, look at this!” With my hand, I brushed the dust off the ornate purple bottle I found in a pile of debris in the attic. Larry tiptoed gingerly through the clutter towards me. He…
Today is Mrs. Hazel Winslow’s turn to host the monthly neighborhood coffee klatch. Since it’s the host’s duty to provide refreshments, she spent the morning baking fresh muffins, pastries, and gingerbread cookies. She expected the usual attendees—her neighbors, Mary, Joy,…
The Squeakle family lived in the forgotten basement of the quaint little cottage of Mrs. Fluffenmutter—an elderly white-haired lady whose eyesight and hearing weren’t quite what they used to be. The Squeakles were a bustling clan of mice, comprising Mama…
Commander Arelle Zinhara checked the sensors on the dashboard a final time. Oxygen: 21%, Nitrogen: 78%, Trace Gases: 1.0%. All good, she noted, the air sustainable for life, with no need for the breathing unit. She pressed the red button…
I know Mommy doesn’t hate me. I know it’s my fault for making her mad. Mommy is mad a lot. I had to leave until she’s not mad anymore. I brush my hand through my hair and feel the lump…
The left turn signal light flashed in sync with the rhythmic tick, tick, tick. I looked over my shoulder to the left, then stepped on the gas to merge onto the Northbound State Highway 99 towards Lodi, leaving Stockton in…
I turn the doorknob on the closed door, afraid to see what might be on the other side. The door creaks on its ancient hinges. I take a step forward into the inky blackness, illuminated only by my flashlight. I’m…