(Fiction) To catch a waking nightmare

Mr. Étranger watched her fly into the night. He turned to me. “Do you know her?” I sniffed. My cheeks were red from running in the cold. I could hear a semi pass on the big freeway down by McDonald’s. “We were lovers. For a while. You’d better come in. There won’t be much time.” …

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(Fiction) Salamongue Greymouth, Waspkeeper of Hell

When Mr. A. Tranjay and I got back, my dad was waiting for us. He was mad I had unlocked the door. And he had found the book, the one Mr. A. Tranjay gave me. He had found it under the mattress with my translation. I wrote it in pencil on the kind of lined …

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