She looked at the letters on the paper in front of her. Her eyes followed the words with tired eyes, knowing that these were the things that she wanted to say, but never would.

"Anomolay Jones is better off dead" ( Read more... )

Performers Shot on Main Street ( Read more... )

Pulling the mask up over her face, she took a deep breath and pushed the door to the ICU room open. The sterile scent of hospital cleansers and the steady beat of the machines greeted her as she entered ( Read more... )

She knelt over the grave where they had buried him. Her claws were covered with soil from digging into the hedge where she had planted the sapling ( Read more... )

The radio played in the background as she walked through her stances and katas; feeling the chill December wind caress her pale flesh in the early morning light ( Read more... )

The helpless Blackberry slammed into the wall and shattered into a hundred tiny electronic pieces.

"God damn you, John!" ( Read more... )

She opened the package, noting the familiar handwriting with a scornful sigh ( Read more... )

She stood on the tarmac, the smell of oil and jet fuel filled their nostrils. She stared at him, her heart still filled with wonder and amazement that he was here... breathing...alive. How many others had told her that no one else had escaped? That none of the rest of the Choir had survived? Now, not only were they proven wrong, but it was Him. ( Read more... )

Dawn Court

Application in Process

Sitting at High.

Pace Pace Pace

She opened the email from him cautiously. It had been almost a year...no...it was a year...today ( Read more... )