S: I hate casinos. J: I didn’t ask you to like being here. I just asked you to be here. S: I would rather be ordering a peanut butter milkshake at that place we drove past on the way into this god forsaken shit hole. J made gagging noises and pulled a face S, looking … More Killing Time
She sat on the edge of the sofa, her fingertips nervous, conscious of the frayed seams, worn upholstery and dulled paisley print. The ceiling fan squealed as it spun, and the humidity in the room was oppressive. Her blouse clung to her with sweat, and she could feel a bead of sweat run from her … More Waiting. Short Story Pt 1.