May 2011

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Class Pet from Beyond the Grave

What Darkness Lurks behind the Lesson Plans?

by De Kenyon

A ghost haunts the teachers’ toilet, but Fox & Hare Paranormal Investigations faces worse something worse than a ghost when they investigate the case of a missing class pet:  murder.

“Come on, Dawn,” Sampson said. “You’re not going to convince anybody by yelling at them. Here.” He handed one of Dawn’s hand-drawn business cards, complete with a glittering ghost, to Principal Smiley. “If you need us, you know where to find us.”

Principal Smiley crouched down so she was on her level and took the card with a fake-polite smile. “In class, I hope.”

Tony said, “So much for your booger ghost,” and the other kids laughed.

 

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A Picture is Worth 1000 Chomps

Her Nightmares Don’t Care Who They Eat

By De Kenyon

Seth uncovers shy girl Tony’s secret talent:  she can make images come to life, but she can’t control the evil, hungry monsters that she creates.

“What would be your superpower, Tony?” I asked. “If you were a superhero.”

Tony’s a shy girl. I didn’t expect her to answer. But then again, I hadn’t expected her to join us outside the chain-link fence separating the swimming pool from the rest of the park. She was the kind of kid you couldn’t shake out of the swings with an earthquake. But that was the lure of comic books.

She turned the page. “Nightmares,” she said.

“Creepy,” I said.

She held her comic book so close to her eyes that I knew she couldn’t see a thing. But I could see the top of her head turn bright red.

“I like creepy,” I added.


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Mother & Child

Three Extremely Short Stories of Mothers, Children,
and the Uncanny Bonds between Them

A boy who wants to rescue his mother from her perfect, imaginary life—at any cost.  A girl who finds her life’s calling in a journal entry about a classmate’s pain.  A mother who knows that just because everyone else has decided it’s Judgment Day, her daughter doesn’t have to get Judged, too.  Three extremely short stories of mothers, children, and the uncanny bonds between them.

I don’t know about you, but I was watching my daughter run in her first 5K on Judgment Day.  We were better off than most.  Plenty of bottled water for the girls.  We slept in the car for two days and drove over the pass as soon as the traffic settled down.

I didn’t know my husband had been taken until then; the phones were out.  I yelled at him from the front door to help me carry in the coolers, but nobody answered.  The window by his computer desk was busted outward.  The blood on the window, his, was mixed with quicksilver.

I didn’t find out we were pregnant for another two weeks—one of my neighbors walked the mile and a half up my driveway to tell me.  She knew I didn’t keep up with the news at the best of times, and I was still grieving for Keith.

My first reaction was, “What, the men, too?”


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Abominable

The only warmth left is you.

(Warning: mature content)

You find the love of your life, and work your ass off to get her what she wants.  Now she doesn’t love you anymore.  You need something.  You need something warm.

You’re not the only one.

You meet a woman.

In a bar, sitting at a table, with a long, white cigarette between her pale fingers and smooth, pale nails. Her lips are red, her dress is red. She stares at you like a beautiful monster, hungry. The smoke curls toward you, she brushes her blue-black hair off her face. A cynical Snow White, the fairest of them all.

You’re charming.

You turn the chair next to her backwards. You sit and smile. You’re Jack. Her name is Laura. You say you’d like to share your life with her, starting with a drink. Hers is a gin and tonic. You’re charming, and she enjoys you.