SPAuthor

The clock is ticking down, each second stretched into a million by the tension in the air. Red and white and green fill the court and bleachers. The audience holds ...

Our tree. That's what I thought of it as. Twenty feet off the ground, with the branches bending under your weight, and the rough bark scraping your hands. Where ...

Tears. They streamed down his cheeks, like they never had before. His body trembled with grief, and the girl in his arms frowned in disapproval, like she used to, like ...

*I was bored, so I jotted this down, unedited. Bleh. "Did it make you feel like a man, killing that little boy?" Solange was trembling, but not in fear or ...