TITLE: Secret
GENRE: NA Secret
HA! I got away with it. Magnolia flicked her long, dark hair over her shoulder and smiled.
Walking up to the coffee shop, she scanned the patrons sitting at the tables outside. Thomas, the soft-spoken man from her calculus class at Neith Junior College, was supposed to meet her here at three. Instead, a face on the inside of the shop caught her eye. Her smile slipped.
Please, God, NO.
Face partially concealed by the reflection of the storefront glass, a man in his forties watched her. He was slumped against the back of his chair, his arms folded, and his face hard. Wearing a cheap, red Hawaiian shirt, and silver-flecked dark hair combed back under a slick of hair gel, there was no mistaking who it was.
She felt every muscle in her body tense. Vampyr take him. Uncle Jimmy: The Devil's punishment on the living.
Miss Snark's First Victim
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Name That Genre #9
TITLE: SECRET
GENRE: Adult SECRET
Sestra worked the oars through the endless ocean, sinking them into the thick blue and pulling them up translucent in the sun. Every bit of her dripped either from the salty spray or sweat. She’d been rowing for hours now, and the sun reclined at a comfortable high noon position. It had been dark when she left.
Water lapped up between the cracks in her raft. She hadn’t sealed it as well as she’d wanted, but she hadn’t exactly planned this. Or she had, but not quite so soon. Sestra had always known that she’d run away someday. It was just what she did.
She wasn’t sure where she was going. She knew what she was looking for, just not where it was exactly. So she rowed and rowed, like every day, a combination of rowing and floating and rowing again. After the flood, that’s all there was to do.
GENRE: Adult SECRET
Sestra worked the oars through the endless ocean, sinking them into the thick blue and pulling them up translucent in the sun. Every bit of her dripped either from the salty spray or sweat. She’d been rowing for hours now, and the sun reclined at a comfortable high noon position. It had been dark when she left.
Water lapped up between the cracks in her raft. She hadn’t sealed it as well as she’d wanted, but she hadn’t exactly planned this. Or she had, but not quite so soon. Sestra had always known that she’d run away someday. It was just what she did.
She wasn’t sure where she was going. She knew what she was looking for, just not where it was exactly. So she rowed and rowed, like every day, a combination of rowing and floating and rowing again. After the flood, that’s all there was to do.
Name That Genre #8
TITLE: Secret
GENRE: Adult Secret
Ailis slipped out from the glow of the street lamp into the shadows of the porch, shivering. The oversized coat of her older brother’s should have kept her warm. Perhaps, however, the trembling had more to do with the mission she was on rather than the night air. Though February had frosted the ground and left its snowy imprint, what chilled her bones was fear. She buried that anxiety as soon as it leached into her head. “It’d do no good to succumb to worry now, not this far away from home,” she thought. She ducked under the ivy that hung low over the wooden eaves, concealing herself from the road.
A British armored truck sat idle in front of the flats across the drive, its darkness haunted the night; a cold, windowless tank so dully painted that even the streetlamp refused to cast a reflection on it.
GENRE: Adult Secret
Ailis slipped out from the glow of the street lamp into the shadows of the porch, shivering. The oversized coat of her older brother’s should have kept her warm. Perhaps, however, the trembling had more to do with the mission she was on rather than the night air. Though February had frosted the ground and left its snowy imprint, what chilled her bones was fear. She buried that anxiety as soon as it leached into her head. “It’d do no good to succumb to worry now, not this far away from home,” she thought. She ducked under the ivy that hung low over the wooden eaves, concealing herself from the road.
A British armored truck sat idle in front of the flats across the drive, its darkness haunted the night; a cold, windowless tank so dully painted that even the streetlamp refused to cast a reflection on it.
Name That Genre #7
TITLE: SECRET
GENRE: NA SECRET
I spent the night I died at the Tau Kappa end of semester blowout, downing spiked punch and making out with Billy Curtis.
Okay. Not really. But I should’ve at least had the guts to try. Maybe then I’d be waking up an ex-virgin with a hangover, next to the boy I’ve had a crush on since high school. I’d rather have that regret.
That’s what haunts me. Not the last thing I saw—headlights swerving at me head-on.
Not the last thing I heard—crunching glass, screeching tires, and the weakening lub-thud of my heart.
I’d spent my final hours on earth—scratch that, most of my life—studying for stupid tests that would never matter. I’d always been responsible. Done the right things. Safe things.
Yet here I am. Dead.
All the people with near-death experiences got it wrong. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel.
GENRE: NA SECRET
I spent the night I died at the Tau Kappa end of semester blowout, downing spiked punch and making out with Billy Curtis.
Okay. Not really. But I should’ve at least had the guts to try. Maybe then I’d be waking up an ex-virgin with a hangover, next to the boy I’ve had a crush on since high school. I’d rather have that regret.
That’s what haunts me. Not the last thing I saw—headlights swerving at me head-on.
Not the last thing I heard—crunching glass, screeching tires, and the weakening lub-thud of my heart.
I’d spent my final hours on earth—scratch that, most of my life—studying for stupid tests that would never matter. I’d always been responsible. Done the right things. Safe things.
Yet here I am. Dead.
All the people with near-death experiences got it wrong. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel.
Name That Genre #6
TITLE: Secret
GENRE: Adult Secret
Success. Somehow, I had finally managed to collect eggs from “the ladies” without dropping any. As a bonus, only poor Miss Red had attempted to extract a bit of revenge for my thievery.
At the sound of raised voices, I closed the gate and raced towards the nearest barn. I turned the corner and spotted my sister, Kayla Kincaid, standing next to a rather large animal.
“Get that thing,” Kayla pointed at the furry critter. “back on the trailer and get it out of here.”
“His name is Ernesto and he’s a prize winning alpaca,” said Alexis Kincaid.
“He’s not staying. I don’t have time to take care of him and his harem,” Kayla wiped her hand across her forehead.
“No worries. I’ll take care of them.”
“You?” Kayla laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“They’re a great investment. You just don’t think I can handle it.”
GENRE: Adult Secret
Success. Somehow, I had finally managed to collect eggs from “the ladies” without dropping any. As a bonus, only poor Miss Red had attempted to extract a bit of revenge for my thievery.
At the sound of raised voices, I closed the gate and raced towards the nearest barn. I turned the corner and spotted my sister, Kayla Kincaid, standing next to a rather large animal.
“Get that thing,” Kayla pointed at the furry critter. “back on the trailer and get it out of here.”
“His name is Ernesto and he’s a prize winning alpaca,” said Alexis Kincaid.
“He’s not staying. I don’t have time to take care of him and his harem,” Kayla wiped her hand across her forehead.
“No worries. I’ll take care of them.”
“You?” Kayla laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“They’re a great investment. You just don’t think I can handle it.”
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