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Poem: Redheaded Lady of the Pines

There’s a red headed beauty waiting
On the outskirts of town out past the pines
Patiently swaying to music in the moonlight
Calling my name telling me to leave it all behind
Barefoot in blue jeans we dance in the clearings
Out in the shadows beyond the bonfire light

Short Story: God of the Glen

Ryleigh found herself in a part of the woods she had never seen before.

She had been skipping along the creek chasing a bullfrog who was winning the race when she’d tripped on her untied shoelace. Brushing the dirt and leaves from her already scabbed knees, she noticed a hole about her size in brambles that formed a perimeter around the creek.

The frog long gone, and having gotten bored with the game anyways, she ducked through the portal and followed it into the woods.

As she moved deeper into the passage, it got progressively darker as the thorns weaved between each other, nearly blocking out the sun. She never got scared, or at least admitted it to herself, because she could see the light at the end of the tunnel ahead of her. Even though it was a constant beacon, it felt like it never grew closer until she found herself stumbling out into the cool afternoon sunlight filtering through a thousand leaves above her.

Short Story: Lonely Companion

The open road is a lonely companion.

Ten miles back, Brianne passed a highway sign of a deer crossing that someone had graffitied over, saying: “Do NOT pick up the hitchhiker in the red coat.” She hadn’t thought much of the sign, given that she’d seen ones suggesting that she should avoid anal probes with an alien on it and a bigfoot is watching you sign. It seemed out in the middle of the desert where there was little threat of getting caught by the police was the place to let your shitty art skills fly.