Smallara

Charity sat in the shadow of the desk chair, her legs tucked beneath her, arms wrapped around herself for warmth and reassurance. The nightmare had shaken her more than she…

Charity finally reached the underside of the desk chair.  It towered over her like a modern sculpture wrought from black plastic and polished chrome. The five thick legs jutted outward…

Charity looked up at the underside of her desk.  What had once been a familiar piece of furniture, wood grained and scuffed from years of careless elbows, now loomed above…

One by one, her family had disappeared.  It didn’t happen all at once, the way Charity had once imagined tragedy might. There was no single cataclysmic event, no explosion, no…

I forgot to set this up last night before going to bed. So the picture will have to wait till I get home this evening. Apologies, I will post this…