It was her eyes that drew him to her. They were odd looking and yellowish.
He whipped the dogs and the sled leaped ahead over the packed and frozen snow.
Fleet as the wind, she ran alongside, among the trees.
She turned, vanishing.
In the distance, the wolves were howling.
William Dart is just a retiree.
“It was probably wolves,” Mom said, and turned away, gagging.
I stroked poor Curly’s paw, the only part not matted with blood.
Dad stood behind me, hand on my shoulder. He spoke with his fingers: “Don’t say a word” he squeezed.
There would be more, I realized, my chest hollow.
Dana Mele is a writer and attorney who lives in upstate New York with her husband and toddler. She writes Dead End Darling, an online serial about survival, second chances, and zombies, and her work is forthcoming in 101 Words. In her spare time, she avoids bears.
Billy Goat was waiting in the yard when Mrs. Wolf came strolling by with her son in a stroller.
“Good morning,” said Mrs. Wolf.
“Have you seen my squirrel?” said Billy, icily.
“Your little pet?” Something inside the stroller squeaked desperately. “Ah,” said Mrs. Wolf. “Well, boys will be boys!”
The howling of wolves pierced the frosty twilight air.
“If I weren’t so scared for my life,” whispered Mina, “I’d find that eerily beautiful.”
“I think it’s still possible to find something beautiful when you’re scared,” whispered Frederick.
“Are you flirting with me?” asked Mina.
She never got an answer.
Two glowing eyes peered at me from the shadows: wolves.
I blinked, and there were four eyes. Then six. Then ten.
I did a quick recount. Thirteen? That didn’t make sense. Had one lost an eye in a fight?
Ah, it had just been winking. I winked back.