Author: Walli Clien

STOP IT! Back then, the first thing anyone noticed about the boy wasnt his faceit was the grease. Thick, black smudges stained his hands and cheeks, like football

“STOP IT!” The first thing anyone noticed about the kid wasnt his faceit was the grease. Thick, grimy smears covered his hands, arms, even streaked across his cheeks

April 14 Today started out like any other Sunday in Franklin Park. The sun was low and gold, the air smelled like grass and distant barbecues, and everyone

Dont touch me! Her voice was like a whip crack, so sharp that the jazz trio near the champagne bar stumbled over the melody. Every head in Hightower

She looked far too hollow to ask twice. The little girl in the faded red t-shirt stood before the weathered lemonade stand, hands trembling, lips cracked, and eyes

The bedroom glowed with a warm, honey-colored light, golden rays spilling over every polished surface. Crystal sparkles danced across the glass of the vanity, and the chandelier overhead

What are you supposed to be? he sneered. The boy stayed quiet. Then, with determined calm, he hurled a rock right at the cast. CRACK. Plaster burst across

Dont touch the handle again. The heavy glass doors slammed so hard that the sound bounced along the marble, echoing inside Mara Thompsons ribs before fading into the

The diner buzzed with that rough, careless noise that makes it easy for folks to treat each other badly. Coffee mugs clinked. Heavy boots pounded against the linoleum.

Everyone at Oakridge Memorial Hospital knew that Victor Hammond liked making people feel insignificant. Even with one leg propped up in a massive white cast, Victor still gave