He picked it up and squinted at it: a small, gold ring, engraved crudely–scratched, more like.
For now, let’s talk about the ultimate F-bomb for writers the world over: Failure.
He unlatched the slide-lock and pushed it open. It was small; he had to crouch down, peering through the gloom pent up in the attic.
You live with all these people, the villains and heroes and quirky neighbors who just show up for comic relief.
Landon’s unease came back, full force. He pushed the button to silence the boom box, to better hear what they sang
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Here’s reality: the glow of the computer screen attracts kids like the promise of artificially flavored sugar treats.
Come in. The whisper came at the heels of the deafening, echoing knock. He could not. He couldn’t do it