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October 26, 2007


Thanks, Mom.

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Sealyon: Inheritance

The package arrives less than a month after her death. I’d been half expecting it, but no one was sure if the family legend was true. I guess I’d be the one to find out.

It looks harmless, wrapped in brown paper, tied with brown twine. I almost don’t want to open it. If I open it, then it’s final. She’s really dead, and if the legend is true, then my life will never be the same.

I open the box and stare at the list inside.

It’s all true.

Damn: the next-door neighbor is my first victim.

Thanks, Mom.

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Jim: A Day In The Garden

“Oh dear!” squeaked Leticia Bristlebottom, her gossamer wings flailing wildly as she zigged to and zagged fro. “Stupid, stupid me!”

A monstrous pudgy hand grabbed for Leticia, which she barely avoided. One of those enormous fists would crush the life from her.

“What was I thinking?” she chided herself. “Everybody knows roses make me sleepy. And the petals are so comfortably soft.”

Once again, she narrowly escaped a clutching hand. From behind her, a voice boomed, “Pretty.”

Suddenly, a tree root lifted and tripped the chasing toddler. Leticia darted safely away. “Thanks, Mother,” she whispered.

The land sighed, “You’re welcome.”

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