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Pamela Williams /Perthena#2476
Bio
"Every little thing's gonna be all right." :)
Stories (29/0)
After the Funeral
In our favorite restaurant overlooking a grey Tampa Bay, I picked at my swordfish. Wine glasses tinkled from tables in the distance, and I gazed through the window at the still water. When I pulled my attention away from the bay, I saw my husband’s features in the face of the stranger sitting at the next table.
By Pamela Williams /Perthena#24763 years ago in Fiction
THE PULL
Taylor developed a slight tremor last year when she’d heard Stetson jumped off the bridge. She’d just seen him the day before, sitting on her porch laughing and drinking a beer. People in town still talked about Stetson, whispered about forest spirits swaying on tree limbs over the creek. Jumper’s Creek had a pull they said, a pull that summoned them like a siren’s song.
By Pamela Williams /Perthena#24763 years ago in Fiction
GOBLIN TICKET
After work last Friday, I went to the Goblin Market, a restaurant where goblins, formed from baked earth, were scattered among ancient books that lined the restaurant walls. I took a seat at my favorite table close to the balcony doors, though there was no balcony. The doors were a facade for an illusion of beauty beyond the goblins’ focused stare. If I had opened the doors, I’d have fallen two stories down into a dumpster or lay sprawled across a pile of rocks. The doors were locked.
By Pamela Williams /Perthena#24763 years ago in Fiction