The contest
Breathe, Breathe, Miguel told himself. The room was spacious, but he felt as if the walls were closing in on him, trapping him, preventing him from breathing…
Down There
This was the 6th night I had heard a noise coming from underneath my bed. Well, noise wasn’t the right word. Actually, it was a distinct voice talking to me…
Muffin Enjoys Jazzercise
Dear Muffin (A.K.A. Pastry Puff McMuff), Jazz class? You obviously meant Jazzercise-- You’re the tight clothes type who gets a rise From sweat rolling down the…
Tradion the Brave's Trusty Aide
God help me. Not that god exists in this setting because the writer has some sort of non-denominational generic pantheon going on… you know what I mean. I just…