Weston lay in the floor gasping for breath. A dark figure stood over him swinging a piece of paper back and forth while saying something that Weston couldn't quite make out. Blood trickled down the side of Weston's face. A head injury? Probably. Weston recalled stuffing the lab report in his pocket then putting on his coat ready to leave the lab. After that, there was nothing.
Something caught his eye. It was one of Marshall's doodles. He would draw pictures of bugs on lab reports, a practice that neither the boss or Weston liked. This picture was nearly identical to the Cicada that hung in the shadowbox. It was spread across the left margin and looked to be painstakingly drawn down to the pin stuck through the middle of the dead Cicada. Under Marshall's artwork were the words, "Call Midge!"
Lately, bread has been on my mind. After all, most households have a loaf or even loaves of white bread, wheat bread, whole grain bread or some other type of bread for sandwiches or sides. My family keeps a stock of bread most of the time. The government agency that oversees children's dietary health in schools requires my daughter's school to put "wheat bread" on the list of required lunch items for the children. So, our dedication to bread expands further than the home front.
Feet planted firmly on a rock, I was standing in the middle of gently flowing creek in my grandmother’s back yard. Click title to read more.
In an attempt to examine some of the foods I have been eating, I came across an issue with a prepackaged nutritional shake that I have been taking to work with me for convenience. The label is packed full of... Continue Reading →
“Mom, there’s something wrong.” The alarm in my tone caught her attention. Before I could go further, I saw the mass diving toward the street. “Run.” That’s all I could say before a hellish nightmare descended on the crowd.