As I walk towards the coop in the gathering dark, four pairs of eyes glow in the beam of my flashlight. “Hello, cows?” I say hopefully.
She printed it out, bound and perfect by the margins, ready for submission. Not today. She opened the drawer and added to the decaying pile.
“Go ahead,” Marcie whispered. Ben watched Sheila blush. The two women waited. “And take off the ring, Ben. I’ve been dead a long time.”
The opposing armies took refuge in the same town until the storm ended. Befriended and with no one to fight they returned to their families.
Charlotte knew she’d arrived in true Utopia. Printed in white block letters underneath the WELCOME sign was, POPULATION: 1.
In the book, tucked so to hold a page, a postcard bought written never sent to anyone, least of all the person the words meant to address.