by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
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The Singing Ice
By Kathleen Zabinski Something off kilter made him look back at the pile of rotting leaves beside the tracks. He wasn’t ever sure what it had been, but he remembered the hair on his neck rising, as his dinner rose, when he first made sense of what he was seeing….