"It's gorgeous." breathes Nora, enchanted by the dress in the window.
"That's as may be," mumbled her husband, "but we can't afford it."
Nora sighed deeply; it was always the same story. Whatever she wanted, they couldn't afford. It was a different matter, when he wanted to go to the Working Man's Club, or whatever he got up to. Money just appeared out of nowhere for that.
Begrudgingly, she followed him as he walked off, hands in his pocket as usual.
"Just going to find a newsagents." he announced, barely waiting for a reply.
Fine, she thought, knowing that he'd...

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"Ugh. I positively hate window shoppers," Eliza groaned while leaning over the counter top. "They never buy anything."

"Hence the name, window shoppers, dearest," Carla giggled softly at her friend who helped her run The Dress Emporium.

They had been working together for about five years now. The shop was doing great, although Eliza would say it could be better. She wishes we could get every person who walks by our store to purchase something.

"Oh, I can't bear to look at them anymore," Eliza folded her arms on the counter and rested her face on them. "Please, Carla. Make...

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The mannequin looked so real, but was not. Apparently. At least that's what Mr Saunders always said, and he had to be right. He was a teacher, wasn't he? He was my teacher and, at nine years old, I believed every word he said.

And yet, every morning as I passed it on my walk to school, the mannequin - whom I had named Joyce - in the window of J. T. Kingsley's department store seemed to watch me as I went. Seemed to call to me, to invite me in. That was, after all, her job. But she did...

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The zombies beat upon the door to the church. The flowering vines clung to the brink walls like dead man's fingers, while the sun gazed relentlessly upon their torn and damaged limbs. The daylight didn't detour them. Neither did the cross, holy water, or relics. All that mattered was the thick wooden door separating them from their desire.

Cries of despair, pleas for mercy and sanctuary went unnoticed. Only the nearby birds heard and their hearts were cold and unyielding. "Sanctuary!" they screamed. "Give us sanctuary!" But the pastor and his flock refused them mercy.

Left to the sun's brilliant...

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"What's the worst thing you ever done in a Church, Sunshine?"

I looked at Beloved, I shrugged, although goosepimples and ice water prickled my body. "I killed a pigeon once."

"What?" Beloved laughed, his mouth pulled, his cheeks puffed and he pinched one lens of his glasses, pulling them up his face. "You're kidding."

"Nope," I said and I walked away from him, my arms clasped behind my back and I looked back and forth, up and down, and touched the smooth paint of the white-washed pews. "I killed it dead."

"WHY?" Beloved was still smiling, I did not have...

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She loved that old house. It used to be one of the very first churches built in the tiny town that had disappeared around it. Then it went up for sale and the woman had jumped at the chance to buy it. The renovation was long and expensive but as she stood inside the finally finished building she thought that just maybe it was here little slice of heaven on Earth.

Smiling, she let the vaulted front door close behind her and turned to move to the brand new staircase that lead from the entry foyer towards the upstairs. Putting...

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"Ugh," Shiloh said, rolling her eyes over the steaming cup of coffee that she had been holding for the last twenty minutes.

Her boyfriend Micah looked across the table and couldn't help but let out a very quiet laugh. "What?" he asked, still laughing as he did.

"Don't what me," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took a very long sip of her still piping hot coffee. "Don't, Micah. You know exactly what that ugh was for."

After Micah had graduated from university with a degree in chemical engineering, he had convinced himself that he didn't want a...

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"So anyway that was what he said yesterday and she wouldn't agree with anything he was...."

The sound drifted away as he continued to stare straight across the carriage. It was the same every morning, she would complain about everything that happened the day before, all the way in on the train, and then again that evening, all the way home.

He, well, he would do the same as always every morning, stare straight ahead at the woman directly across from him. She was beautiful. Here light browne hair rested neatly on her shoulders as she read what seemed to...

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It started as a joke.

Ralph was one of the few people at the camp who had a vehicle, who had a vehicle that was heavy enough to roll through the massive amounts of snow that often fell here over the course of an entire winter, and whose vehicle was actually fit enough to start on a cold morning.

Sally had a sled. She had a sled and a length of rope, and one day thought that it would be amusing to tie the length of rope to Ralph's bumper and let Ralph take her for a ride. Though Ralph...

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Amelia sat happily cooing in her pushchair. It was the most perfect summer's day; barely a cloud in the sky, a slight breeze in the air. Jane looked down at her daughter. After four months, she still couldn't believe she had created her. This tiny, little bundle of perfection was made by her. Of course, Tony had played a role, but everyone knew that mothers did most of the work.
Amelia blew a raspberry; Jane smiled down at her. Who knew it could be possible to love someone so very much. It actually ached.
A wasp flew down, making itself...

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