They say Happiness lives in that house. Normally I don't believe nothing anyone tells me, but after walking by that door every day and staring at the sunshine color, I decide to grab an ounce of nerve and knock. I wait and sweat and fidget
He’d never been a man of vision. He hadn’t been much of anything until the day lightning struck him. The smell of singed wires had stayed with him for months, long after he discovered the unnatural side effects of a billion volts of energy blasting
Ms. Royal had spent her entire life in this doorway—from the carpenter’s shop to the painter, onto the installer's truck, and then, here, next to Mr. Turquoise. Turq, he insisted she call him. She thought nicknames a little too common, vulgar even, so she called
She passes through the labyrinth of brick walls and bright markings. She speaks to no one, for she is alone with her mission. A black feather drifts across her path, carried by the breeze from vents blowing greasy smells. At the labyrinth’s heart is a
There’s a magic in them alleys. Where the moon fills with blood, and the margins of the city seep through cracks in the cement, opening the way for other things. How do I know? I’ve seen things; felt the whoosh of air from beating wings
