RayneWolfspeaker

FROM THE SKY It was late at night, well after 11 pm. Anya Fox stood in the kitchen of her old farm house, stirring a pot of ramen noodles. She was dressed in a long sleeved cotton shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms with little whales on them. The kitchen light cast a soft glow and the ceiling fan spun lazily. Country music played over the radio on the counter, accompanied by the crickets outside and the sound of her Tibetan Mastiff, Jack, sloppily eating his dinner. Anya had just poured the finished ramen into a bowl and was about to dig in when Jack abruptly stopped eating and looked up. "What's wrong, Jacky Boy?" Anya asked, usin

ONE It was a mild spring afternoon; hardly a cloud in the sky and a cool breeze was gently blowing in from the bay. I was running. Running as fast as my legs would carry me. Past neighbors and houses and shops. My lungs were burning and my legs were aching, but I kept running, my school shoes rhythmically smacking against the ground beneath my feet and my pigtails billowing behind me. I ran and I ran until I had reached the beach. Several boats were bobbing out on the waves, but I was alone on the shore. There was a man's clothes scattered on the sand, and when I looked toward the edge of the tide I saw a shirtless, dark haired man sitting