Author: Walton Merritt
Charlotte was having dinner alone yet again. It was already nine in the evening, and not a word from
A Cold Wind Through the Lace Curtains *”—I gave you more than anyone, so naturally I should get
**Someone Else’s Letter** “I was sorting through some old things,” said Michael Thompson, “
Unexpectedly Married Margaret hurried through the shopping centre, arms laden with bags, weaving past
“What a fuss,” she flared up. “Who even needs you, you old hag? You’re nothing but a burden.
The memory of that day still lingers, as sharp as the morning dew on an autumn lawn. “
Slapping the alarm clock silent, Leonard Fishbourne rose from bed and shuffled barefoot to the kitchen
“Oh, hello, hello, kingdom of chaos! Vic, you’re home all the time. Couldn’t you at least wash
— I don’t want to go to Dad’s… Aunt Lydia said Dad doesn’t love me anymore, — Oliver hugged his knees
