A Love, Darkly
Alice gave me a furtive glance as she handed me a glass of lemonade.
Alice gave me a furtive glance as she handed me a glass of lemonade.
It was a slow night, even for a Tuesday.
It took a lot of effort to get the fingerprints just right.
Martha woke from her terrible dream with the chills.
Murderer! Murderer! I thought I would ne’er hear that word.
I climbed the back staircase of my grandparent’s old house.
Saturday mornings were never complete without the obligatory yard sale run.