Billie winced as she tiptoed across the sun-baked deck with two cold wobbly-pops in hand. “You look smokin’ hot, sweetheart,” I said, taking the beers with one hand and pushing her into the pool with the other.
Photo by Joe Shlabotnik
Billie winced as she tiptoed across the sun-baked deck with two cold wobbly-pops in hand.
less than 1 minute read
Billie winced as she tiptoed across the sun-baked deck with two cold wobbly-pops in hand. “You look smokin’ hot, sweetheart,” I said, taking the beers with one hand and pushing her into the pool with the other.
Photo by Joe Shlabotnik
less than 1 minute read
I’ll never forget the first time I sat behind the yoke of dad’s old hovercar by myself, newly minted holo-license carefully filed in my e-wallet.
less than 1 minute read
I put the rest of the tools in the trunk and wheeled it over to the tie-downs.
2 minute read
Peter wanted a smoke.
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I’m not a religious man, but sitting at head of the table where my grandfather would have normally sit, I looked around to my rarely-assembled family, all ea...