By R.M. Carlson Photo Credit @ Rochelle Wisoff-Fields She lifted the baby out of his crib. As she raised up, she smelled something burning. She
Tag: Flash Fiction
The Spook
We are sitting across the street in the non-descript black sedan watching Frank’s house. The Agency has assigned us to the job of determining if
A Boy and his Horse
“Artie, I can’t believe you rode that horse up here to the revival meetin’,” Kaye said. “Why not, Momma,” Artie replied, “Old Clara is good
The Write Scribe 