Steps creaked. The house was foreboding.
I wouldn’t have come, but my brother said She would meet me here.
As I rubbed the dirt aside to peer in the window, a bloodcurdling screech sounded behind me. Adrenaline shot through me. I jumped and whirled, fist connecting.
My brother lay unmoving.
Trina Krieger is an artist struggling to write her memoir. When the process gets overwhelming, she writes urban fantasy instead.