I’ve been asking for water ever since they brought me here. Nobody will give me any. I’m thirsty. The people here say that without any water I’ll die, but they bring me jugs and cups and bowls of cold dead awful stuff that’s not water. I’d spit in it, but I can’t make spit. Continue reading “Little Sips” by Dan Fields

Greta, sometimes you can have a dream job but still be living in a nightmare. Continue reading “Little People” by Ed Ahern

When I woke up with my eyes taped shut and wrists bound, I almost screamed. Continue reading “In the Trunk” by Patrick Hurley