He followed her into the woods. Coppery hair hidden beneath a dark hood, her fleet footsteps were soundless on the path. No snapping branches, no crunching leaves, no gasping breath betrayed her passage. The silence raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Continue reading
The whisper of my dress stung against sunburned thighs.
Content Warning: domestic violence
Anton jumped at the sound of the doorbell. The Seth Thomas clock above the fireplace read 11:57.
Only ax murderers ring doorbells at midnight. Continue reading