The Foot Left Behind
When Jason picked up the plastic bag, something heavy shifted inside. He untied the top and looked. He blinked and looked again. It was a joke, a sick joke.
The Convo
Marissa counted. Fifteen people in line at Starbucks and she was number eight. She had never been to this particular Starbucks before but the familiarity of the brand comforted her.
Sub-plots and Shoes 2
The outside door of the coffee shop suddenly flung open, hitting the wall and making a loud bang. A young couple strode into the middle of the patio. They didn’t notice the observer, sitting in one corner, tucked away under a low-hanging bougainvillea tree.
Sub-plots and Shoes 1
I watch her as she slowly scans my groceries, one by one. Her energy, low. Her face, pale. The name tag says Emily. I insert my credit card to pay and study her. She stops and looks up. Sad chestnut eyes meet wide blue eyes.