I Don't Know How to Love Him , , , I should have known why he was running up the trail. Just yesterday, he’d rescued a snot-eyed kitten from a ditch. He’d made miso soup for a fellow apostle with a cold. But we’d already wasted five minutes, at least. Our clothes were still on.
Nancy Stone
Jacksonville, FL, United States
Selected work (3 publications)
No BabySuzanna’s crouching over the dirt with the baby pinned beneath her. Jelly yanks at her shoulder, clawing his way to her elbow, grabbing it, twisting. I think I see the baby drop.
AngelineHe tells Jane his ghost stories in the tunnels under the Lighthouse Inn, with his hands between her thighs. When he's got a better chance of convincing her they're true, when she's all blade-sharp with want and anxious to live forever.
ghosts