- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Mark Morris
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Daelyn Morgana
- Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
- Nellie Batz | @solimond
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- P.T. Wyant | @PTWyant
- Siren X Star | @sirenstar
- Barbe Crabtree | @ComeOnPeopl
- Isabel Buell
Katheryn says: Not what I was expecting when I got to the end! I really like this piece - the mice line made me giggle.
P. T. Wyant | @PTWyant
Katheryn says: A cute piece! You convey the dog's sadness really well, and it's easy to feel the way he does.
Katheryn says: I'm a sucker for a tortured vampire. You can feel her regret even before she makes the decision to bite him. A beautifully sad piece that leaves me wanting to see her gain redemption/happiness.
Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
Katheryn says: Very creepy - I love it! There's an amazing amount of imagery in such a short piece and the story has a lyrical, poetic quality to the way it reads. It feels like reading the calm before the storm, like the narrator is about to snap. I'd love to see what happens next!
I stay in the shadows. Always in the shadows. It can be the brightest of days, one of those high summer days when children wilt from the heat, cram their bustling bodies into plastic pools, snorkel down a dozen inches seeking relief from the furnace. It can be one of those sorts of days and I stay in the shadows.
I want to knock on your door late some day, a fiery blast of Sol still bearing down on me with sweeps of his swelter. I will be dripping from sweat, for even in the shadows, I melt.
I would knock on your door and, in time, for I imagine you seeking a cold shower of reprieve from the blaze of heat when you first return, in time you would answer because you were always punctual and polite, and I would say, “I saw you come home. Would you have something cool to drink for me?”
You might be startled. Possibly afraid. You might even say, “You can’t be here. You can’t.”
I am not sure what I would say. Possibly, “I couldn’t stay away. You know me. I can’t let things go.”
There we would be, stuck in some everyday tableau. You, seeking the right words. Me, seeking…so much more.
And you might finally rejoin, “I am not a thing, Harry. You have to go.”
I know my limits.
And I have tested yours.
Your hatred cremates me.
I would nod, turn, and return to the shadows.
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