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E. Doolittle

I tiptoed across the hallway from my Mother’s room to mine, and closed the door slowly, quietly, but the lock clicked loudly. Mother probably heard it. Maybe she didn’t. But, she probably did.

“Did you finish your homework?” A loud voice echoed from downstairs.

She heard it.

“Not yet! I needed the bathroom!” My soft voice shouted back down.

With my ear cupped to the door, a response never came.

The dress was gorgeous. It wasn’t exactly right, but it would do. It was white and full sleeved, not exactly what Eliza wore to The Ascot. What it needed was a bow at the left shoulder and knee, and some lace at the cuffs. But, it would do.

I picked up my desk chair and carried it to the closet to hang the dress from the door. I never saw Mother wear it. All I knew about it was that it was her mother’s dress, and that she wore it to marry her first husband before she met my grandpa. I bet she was stunning in it. Just like Eliza. What a night it must’ve been. She must’ve been the perfect bride on a perfect day.

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Valentino Valentino

“I heard he made an entire audience disappear in Cincinnati, and they found them wandering the Sedona Desert a week later. The whole audience!”

“Yeah, well I heard he ate an entire elephant on stage in less than 3 minutes.”

Hannah and Mitchell took their seats in the fourth row. The stage curtain was thick purple velvet, and they could see shuffling feet behind it in the crack between the stage and the bottom of the curtain.

“I bet those are his stagehands,” said Mitchell.

“Maybe there’s actually a hundred of him,” said Hannah.

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What’s That Sweetie?

Pulling weeds was hard work. It’s no wonder Gerald never did it. His hands had a million tiny cuts. They stung from dirt and sweat. He gingerly grabbed the handle of the fridge to open it, and looked in.

Nothing. Well, a few things. But nothing.

“Hey Hun? Where’s the lemonade?”

Gerald moved the milk gallon aside, and an old carton of wontons, and saw the pitcher of lemonade hiding. It was almost empty.

“Never mind! Got it!”

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The Window Never Rang

It was 10:06. Mister Conrad was never up this late. The blue flicker of the TV flame was extinguished, but the glow of Mr. Conrad’s prized lamp was still filling the living room window. It was one of the only things he kept when Jane’s mom died. He always fell asleep next to it. But he never forgot to turn it off.

The light in Jane’s room was still on. She was probably reading one of those spy novels she loved, waiting to hear a handful of pebbles sprinkle her window pane. Steve had ringing her window down to a science.

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1320 Juneau Road

Kelly walked into the kitchen with a  box of glassware. She set it down on the counter, and stepped back. Her hairline was sweaty. Her knees were getting shaky. It was past lunchtime and the U-haul was almost empty.

She wandered out into the foyer and grabbed the banister to look up the stairs. It creaked as soon as she touched it. One more thing they’d need to fix.

“Taylor? Where are you,” she shouted. Her voice echoed. No response.

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