Fire Dance
Celia stood at the patio door, staring at the pink haze beyond the ridge. Her white cotton nightgown billowed with the cool air from the floor register and she sipped from a tumbler of iced tea, the glass slippery with condensation.
For the Bounty Provided Us
My mom is shouting something. Her voice is big and hoarse and really annoying. I hunch my shoulders till they almost touch my ears.