Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree by Sage Tyrtle
You don’t remember, but I was thirteen when I met Mort. I’d forgotten my scarf in the church pew and when I went back to get it I found him, sitting alone.
Passion Play by Katie Burgess
Once she finishes her scene, Claire puts on a pot of coffee to be ready once they wrap up for the day. It’s become a ritual, coffee and fellowshipping after Easter pageant rehearsals.
Unremarkable by Jill Witty
The woods behind our house, leaves crunching underfoot, trees towering above, their branches keeping out most of the light.
The Zoo by Gabrielle Barnby
Mrs. Argyll had been adamant on one.
‘If it was me I’d take both,’ said Mrs. Forsyth. Mrs. Argyll’s gaze swept towards the window. The sun was as brazen as the daffodils.
A Living Ghost by Megan Colgan
Yellow jackets swarm out of an old tire. Stinging me and my brother on every exposed part of our small bodies. My mother hits them with some Raid.