Teddy stepped closer. I could hear his heavy, drunken breathing, almost feel it. He had one fist clenched tight to his side like he was itching to hit me. I was soaking wet and shivering in the middle of the night, but I wasn’t looking for warmth.
As if that’s not enticing enough to get you there, how about Carol Guess’ Evelyn?
For weeks I watched Evelyn water her hanging plant, hung too high by the door. Every morning her routine was the same. She placed a stepstool in front of the plant and set one foot on the stool. It wobbled, she wavered. She went back inside. Came out with a pot of water. Threw the water at the plant, streaking the side of her house with wet.