Oo up sha kayla ( Read more... )

Sunday crashed through the window of its own morning with unforgiving sunlight and a penchant for violence ( Read more... )

It was the kind of night that made you think that maybe getting a couple of neck tattoos wouldn’t be such a bad idea ( Read more... )

In twenty-two years of service, Peter Merkfish had never been assaulted. Never been beaten, never been robbed, never been stripped naked and tied to a swing set in a playground ( Read more... )

Susan crept downstairs slowly, curious about the noises she was hearing from the kitchen. The lights weren’t on. It was Christmas morning so it was still dark out at five in the morning. Her parents slept far away from the kitchen all the way upstairs on the second floor plus they had been celebrating last night so they were in a deep sleep. ( Read more... )

I woke up in San Francisco with an aching head and the beginnings of a cold. It was still something of a thorn in the medical profession’s side that it hadn’t been cured yet. Not that the cures had really done anything. They adapted. They went through generations in the time it took us to congratulate ourselves. Viruses, eh? Human and machine ( Read more... )