The Waiting Room

I hate waiting rooms, mostly for the not-so-subtly implied “waiting” part. I hate that I have to take time out of my day so that someone »


I was making an omelette when I heard the knock on the door. It was frantic, intense, like someone was trying to beat the door down. »


Michael had become quite accustomed to his morning routine. He woke at seven, made his coffee, and stepped onto the front porch with a steaming cup »

A Visitor

A man came to my door today. He said little and invited himself in. He only stood in the doorway, a bit menacingly, if you ask »