The gray sky rumbled when Maggie left home, as though the world itself was crying over stupid rules, too. In her determination, she ignored the cold, spring rain. She’d go to the library first, grab plenty of books, and stay up late reading under the stars. The choices were endless now that she was on her own, the rules of home left behind as she marched down the street splashing in puddles, heavy backpack weighing her down. “Be home…
I remember the day the dragons came, their vivid purple and green scales glinting against the sun. Yellow and orange tales streaking behind them like fire, leathery wings casting shadows over our village. Be it stupidity or fear, I was incapable of fleeing from the mesmerizing sight. As they land, a layer of gritty dust coats my lips. Air thick with the scent of campfire, the voice is a throaty purr. “It’s time, Chusi.” Unafraid, I offer myself in exchange…
Agatha opened the door, and the ghostly apparitions floated through the air, leaving traces of dust in their wake. Three of them ascended the stairs, their translucent forms chasing each other, two huddled together over the kitchen sink, their whispers like wind. A lone specter sat on the sofa, telegram dangling from its fingers, and wept. Agatha closed her eyes, attempting to escape the haunting memories. A door slammed, jolting her back to reality, her eyes snapped open. In the…
I’ve watched them come and go, the people in all shapes and sizes. They look at me and turn away. My once vibrant yellowed paint has faded and chipped, but I still hold the stories of those who’ve entered my door. The first child born here, the last to die here. White-haired and stooped, the couple who kept insisting it would be their last summer. The lanky tanned teens who pleaded with Gran and Pop to keep it just one…