I remember my youth and being asked my first question from another child my age: “What’s your favorite color?”

I knew her favorite was blue, so without thinking, I said “Blue.” I never felt connected to the color blue. Even now, when I hear that question I still say “Blue.” just to get it over with.

But now that I'm alone and pondering the question: What is my favorite color? When I really think...

The first I recall is drinking at Loney’s Bar, and next thing, I’m tied up in these beginner-level handcuffs you could probably find in a Dollar Tree.

_Don’t underestimate me_, I thought. It’s the absurd** idiots** that think I can’t bust out of these like they’re children’s toys.

_All I need is something sharp._

My eyes trail to the open concrete floor, focusing on a metal paperclip. It was s...

Greg and his Mother we're an odd bunch, as they we're clowns. Since he was born in the apartment until the end of his junior year. For most of his life, she'd been alive.

It was sudden, like the gods had snatched her, and so quickly. Breast cancer. It was because she couldn't feel it.

Thing is, pain isn't a thing anymore.

So she couldn't of known. She shouldn't of got that surgery. Perhaps he ...

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**The scale tipped in my favor. **

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**My opponent picked rock twice, and that leaves it likely for them to pick scissors. That leaves me with rock. Yes! Rock! But, can they read my mind like I am now? Had they gone paper?**

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**Do they know I’d be jumping rock? Had my life come to an end because I picked rock!? I panted staring the man dead in the eyes, praying.**

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**Maybe I’ll pla...

Children shrieked on the playground—awfully restless and loud. “That’s why I don't have kids,” she thought, sitting on a park bench and her gloves grasping her coffee.

She seemed to be alone in the cold. Except for the parents, talking underneath a pine tree. They know each other. They must talk frequently. Have a lot of connections.

I should get into connecting. Talking more, she thought.

She ...

Mudbone Lake was chilling still. I sat between a trusty bucket and my special fishing rod, or Lucy’s what I like to call her.

Crickets hissed from the nearby woods. The smell of smoke reached from all the way out from camp and into the middle of Mudbone. I took a whiff of it.

I had armfuls of bait ready a long fishing. I cast my line, clinking far and long. I knew that my odds of snagging good ...