A LETTER FROM THE FUTURE by Jeffrey Ogochukwu
A lump sat in his throat, and he swallowed hard.
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A lump sat in his throat, and he swallowed hard.
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Godzilla was feeling anxious.
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Neal, on his back with greasy hands and a three-pound wrench slipping perilously toward his forehead, yelled, “Take a message; I’m busy right now!”
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“Someone’s outside.” Robert Smalls awakened in darkness as lips brushed his ear.
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Michael was back, just as I had hoped
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The pounding on the door was loud but brief.
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Granny’d had a restless night. There’d been blood on the moon, an evil omen.
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My ex-wife, Viva, was animated. But not in the way you’d think.
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