The Deskjob From Hell
The silk shirt slid easily under his tailored jacket. His hand reflexively touched his silk tie then came to rest on his lap. He didn’t want to be here. The…
Room 203
The woman burst into the room, doors swinging violently but silently on their practical and well oiled hinges. Her eyes bled mascara in small traceable rivers…
Don't mess with Mr. Byng
It was Grade 4, and our teacher, Mr. Byng walked in and stood at the front of the class. He was big, bulky, and I’m not kidding looked like Hulk Hogan. He even…
My Secret Stalactites
“You’re sitting at my desk,” I began. I was always impatient on Mondays. Teresa looked up with sparkly cheerleader eyes, as if she hadn’t heard. “I’m sorry?”…