Ever since the new neighbors moved in upstairs, my kids and I haven’t had but two solid nights of sleep. They moved in nearly three months ago and seem to agree on less as time progresses. I’d never seen them, but judging from their footfalls I’d guess it was Alice the Goon from the old […]Read more "The Neighbors"
Two men from the stand marched down the stairs, carrying the crate into the parting crowd. Everyone rotated, in turn, and watched the men as the sea of people parted, swallowing the men up, gaping. The wave continued until the men stopped in front of Olivia. She didn’t move.Read more "The Auction"
The last terror any American family could imagine, but this family is prepared. The question remains as to if there are situations of which the ending cannot be predicted. The alarm screamed through the neighborhood alerting everyone within a naked mile with a high-pitched wail of the war invading our town. Within seconds, the only light […]Read more "Family Time"
A stranger’s voice crept out of my throat in a raspy whisper. “Oh my God,” the sound edged out of the depths of a mother who didn’t really want to know, “Who did this to you?” I wanted her to tell me it was a joke, and then I could tell her I changed my mind about Fluffy. I would have said “yes” for this to be a prank.Read more "The Good, the Bad, and the Deadly"
“Just who do you think you are?” the woman’s voice sounded panicked and desperate as she whispered in my ear. “Whoever you are, you didn’t come prepared.” In my twenties, lying face down on the sandy brown and white Berber carpet of the living room, the woman on my back dug her knees into my […]Read more "Turn Up the Crazy!"
Although I enjoy allowing my imagination occasional free reign of my writing as a way of escape, I can honestly say the value I generally have in science fiction typically doesn’t fall into stories such as Virginity to the Apocalypse. However, my firm belief is growth stems from experiments, trial and error. My hope is […]Read more "Virginity to the Apocalypse"
“Chase, open the door!” I hate when he goes into the bathroom with his cell phone. In a one-bathroom house, a teen boy cannot disappear behind the door and be expected to be seen within half an hour. “Just a minute,” the answer comes back tainted with a barbed tongue. “I barely got in here, […]Read more "What’s a Mother to do?"