Strange Potion

This is a continuation of Strange Trio Redux.


 

The rain came down in the streets like an ALS ice bucket challenge from the heavens. Miss Hill shivered under the black cape.

“I hope this place isn’t very far!” she yelled. Ms. White didn’t seem to hear.

It wasn’t. After only a block of the cold water treatment, Ms. White stopped in front of a brick wall. “We’re here,” she declared. Continue reading

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A Post Card

If you knew Uncle Sal, the card made perfect sense. My uncle was a cabbie in New York. Boisterous and loud, he loved being the center of attention. Loved hearing his own voice, delivering one-line zingers so fast his audience couldn’t catch their breath. His laughter booming around the room like a cannon ball. Continue reading

Strange Rain

This is a follow-up to Strange Brew.

* * *

Miss Hill got off the subway near midtown. The station smelled of exhaust fumes, oil, and stale sweat as she was carried along by the mob of humanity like a small cork in a swift stream. At street level, she stopped to get her bearings. A cold blast of wind shouldered its way down the concrete streets between the buildings. An exasperated taxi operator hammered on his horn nearby. Continue reading