The rusted ’78 Nova’s door clanked shut behind him. Crinkled in his hand was his green unwashed apron. He threw it on, flattened it, and headed in the back door at Crystal’s Cafe. His Name tag read, “Chance”, and had… Continue Reading →
Tim, who was often called Timmy, was a boy between worlds. More to the point, Timmy was pretty much between everything. At 12 years old, he was between childhood and adulthood. Being a ward of the state, he and his… Continue Reading →
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