Children's Fiction
Eldridge Elwell skated into the Grizzlie's zone.
He fell.
He got up. He chased the Grizzlies' center.
He fell. He got up.
"The new player doesn't look that good," Johnny said. He wasn't being mean. He was just stating it like a fact.
"Yes," Tom said, "he needs some different equipment."
"What equipment?" Johnny asked.
"He needs a pillow on his butt," Tom said.
"Don't move," came a harsh whisper. "Don't try to turn around. I've got a gun."
Someone had come up behind me from the dark hallway that led to the bedrooms.
That same someone snapped off the light at the switch on the wall. That left us alone in the dark, me and someone with a gun and a harsh whisper.
My name is T.J. Barnes and I don't like cats. I don't like the way they stare. I don't like the way they slink. I don't like the way they race under your feet without warning and wash their behinds in public. Cats give me the creeps.
