E. B. Davis
“I will break this door down,” the intruder said.
“Oh, shut up,” I yelled back. “We’re having a discussion.”
I Think I’ll Pass
“But that’s not me!” I don’t usually shout, but this situation warranted a loud outburst. “My name’s not Julia. I’m Darinda Locke. I’ve never aggravated assaulted anyone, or however you say it.”
“Will the ants die?”
“I guess so.” They probably won’t die at all, Sharon mused. They’ll just go deeper into the ground and come up later somewhere else, like husbands’ bad habits.
Water, Like the Camera, Adds Ten Pounds
She tried to pull her head out using the left-side escape route, and then the right. No luck from either direction. Several more attempts resulted in the same conclusion: My head’s stuck.
Making New Tracks
Engrossed in a song, she sat back. As she crossed her right leg over her left, she nudged the guy standing directly in front of her. She clasped her hand over her mouth when her furry house slipper stuck to the seat of his pants like a piece of felt to a flannel board.
She tried on cowboy hats, baseball caps, Fedoras, and knitted berets. Nothing hid her hair. Not enough, anyway. The frizz stuck out in every direction. In fact, most of the hats were too small because of her big hair.
Hair to the Max
Lisa Ricard Claro
Black. The dye saturating the top third of her head was definitely black. The darkest of blacks. The pitchest of blacks. “Dear God,” she whispered.
Ned’s away from the window now but not coming out of the house. I would steal his car. If he had one. My gaze wanders to the shed, and I resign myself to what I must do next.
The crossing guard backed slowly into the street without looking right or left. He held the sign like a shield. He was apparently petrified by the green-faced woman.
Four Little Words
Mary Ann Corrigan
“Hi there. I’d like to buy a mattress, but only if the sales clerks stay away from my husband. He’s the one walking around with no shoes on. He’s off his meds. I should warn you that your Madness Sale matches his mental state.”