Adults

Fluorescent lights buzz overhead inside the dusty old thrift store - and in my hands, a homespun afghan drapes over my fingertips. There's a superstition within the crochet community that your soul is imbued in the things you create, so it’s wise to leave a mistake: a door for your soul to escape, if need be.
I examine the afghan, admiring the intricate designs. “Flawless,” I whisper - an unnatural warmth pouring from its stitches.

"Does yours do that also? Yes she replied, everyday the same thing. Can you figure it out?

Maybe they are trying to get rid of it and we keep bringing it back.

Good point. Next time lets just keep running and see what happens. Good idea but then where would we get food?

Good point he said.

- [ ]

As a high school student, Todd was introverted, bullied and had little friends. Now, he is a fitness Youtuber, an application designer at a software company, an entrepreneur, investor and works with multiple companies for sponsorship deals. He uses the money to help fund start ups and provide aid to charities and his family. Despite having a rough time in high school, Todd did not let it define him forever.

In the truck’s bed, they endured the hot Louisiana night. Jules slapped desultorily at mosquitoes.
“Alice, you said blood don't taste like it does for rest of us,” Jules said. “Sooo, what does it taste like?”
Alice shrugged, and simultaneously shook her head. Not a gesture mortals could pull off with her graceful fluidity.
Jules' breath was baited. Alice didn’t breathe at all.
“Tastes like Diet Coke.”
Afterwards, silence stretched like taffy.

Her origins are lost in the mists of time. Shadows of rumors place her far back in ancient Mesopotamia. A Muslim cleric living in the shadow of Turkey's Mount Nemrut claims she was discovered by nomadic Homo Ergaster upon African savannahs.
Physicists speculate on the black substance, resistant to any and all methods of modern forensic inquiry, including the powerful Zetawatt-Equivalent Ultrashort Pulse Laser.
Her very presence induces horrific nightmares.

In her twenties, Ruby’s perfect shade was Revlon’s ‘Raisin Rage’. A vampy red lipstick: it never overpromised. But the name?
“What would make a raisin angry?” Ruby laughed.
In midlife, wearing ‘Raisin Rage’ felt … ‘inappropriate’. (Now the raisin wasn’t the only one angry.) Ruby understood all too well: That “raisin” was once a wrinkle-free “grape”. Now she’s shriveled beyond recognition—so not her former self--she’s been RENAMED!
What’s next? ‘Prune Apocalypse’?
 

Forcing Jesse to have “afternoon tea like The Royals” felt extra passive-aggressive, even by Lisa’s standards. He’d told her before: coffee (with cake) was for happy times; while tea (with honey and lemon) was for misery: divorce, funerals, illness.
Everyone knew this. Everyone except Lisa.
Lisa loved Chamomile--it “soothed her”. Funny, she didn’t seem so “soothed” while tossing his belongings out after he refused ‘afternoon tea’.
Tea: The beverage of ‘break-ups’, too.